My Ex-Mate Wants Me Back

I didn't stay to see them kiss. I ran. I ran to our bedroom, the room where we had slept together for five years, but had never truly been together.

The scent of his expensive cologne hung in the air, a cruel reminder of the man who had just told his ex-girlfriend that marrying me was his biggest regret. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, my hands shaking so hard I had to tuck them under my thighs.

The door clicked open. I didn't even have to look up to know it was him. The heavy, oppressive weight of his Alpha aura filled the room, making it hard to breathe.

"Pack a small bag," Logan said. His voice was like a shard of ice. "I've already moved your things to the servants' quarters in the West Wing. Chloe will be taking this room."

I looked up, my eyes stinging. "Our room? You’re giving her our bed, Logan? It’s our anniversary!"

Logan didn't even flinch. He walked over to the dresser and picked up a heavy manila envelope. He tossed it onto the duvet next to me. "It was our anniversary. Now, it’s just the day I finally stop pretending. Sign the papers, Giuliana. Make it easy for once in your life."

I stared at the bold letters: PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MATED BOND.

"No," I whispered, pushing the envelope away. "Logan, please. We can fix this. I know I’m not her, but I’ve tried. I’ve given you everything. I’ve been a loyal wife. I’ve been your Luna."

Logan let out a harsh, jagged laugh that made me flinch. "You’ve been quite a handful. My father forced this match to secure the southern borders, and I played along because I thought Chloe was gone for good. But she’s back. The duty is over."

"Duty?" I stood up, grabbing his sleeve. "Is that all I am to you? A contract? Five years, Logan. We’ve shared a bed for five years!"

He ripped his arm away as if my touch burned him. "And every night I closed my eyes and imagined it was her. Does that answer your question? Every time I touched you, I had to remind myself that it was the price of the Alpha title. I’m tired of paying it."

The words felt like a physical strike to my chest. I felt my wolf whimper, retreating into the darkest corners of my mind.

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Don't do this. I’ll do anything. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll let her stay. Just don't reject me. Don't throw me away like I’m nothing."

"You are nothing to me," Logan said, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. His grey eyes were devoid of any warmth. "You are a boring, plain girl who stood in the shadow of a queen. Sign the papers by morning, or I will have the guards drag you to the border myself."

He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door so hard the mirror on the wall rattled.

I didn't sleep. I spent the night on the floor, my head resting against the side of the bed. By 6:00 AM, the cold had seeped into my bones, but a tiny, flickering flame of hope still burned in my chest. If I could just show him... if I could remind him of the life we had built.

I went down to the kitchen. My hands were stiff as I started the stove. I made everything he liked—the dark roast coffee, the protein-heavy omelets he insisted on after his morning run, the fresh biscuits with honey.

I was plating the food when the sound of laughter echoed down the hallway.

Rosser walked in first, her blonde hair perfectly styled even this early. Behind her was Chloe, wearing one of Logan’s oversized dress shirts. My dress shirt. The one I had bought him for his birthday last year.

"Oh look," Rosser sneered, leaning against the kitchen island. "The maid is working early today. Did you get the memo, Giuliana? You don't live here anymore."

"I’m making breakfast for my husband," I said, keeping my head down, my voice tight.

"Husband?" Chloe stepped forward, her voice soft and high, the kind of sound that made men want to protect her. "Logan told me he gave you the papers last night. It’s a bit sad, really. Trying to cook your way back into a man’s heart when he’s already given it to someone else."

"Get out of my kitchen, Chloe," I snapped, finally looking up.

Chloe flinched, her eyes immediately welling with tears. "I... I just wanted some water. I didn't mean to upset you."

At that exact moment, the back door swung open. Logan stepped in, sweating from his run, his chest bare and glistening. He saw Chloe’s tears and his entire demeanor shifted into something feral.

He was across the room in a second, pulling Chloe behind him. "What did you do to her?" he roared at me.

"I didn't do anything! She came in here and—"

"She’s crying, Giuliana!" Logan interrupted, his voice shaking the plates on the counter. "I told you what would happen if you made her feel unwelcome."

"Logan, I made you breakfast," I said, gesturing to the table with a trembling hand. "I just wanted us to talk. Please, just sit down and"

Logan looked at the spread I had spent two hours on. He didn't see the effort. He didn't see the love. He saw an annoyance.

He reached out and swept his arm across the counter.

The plates shattered. The omelets, the biscuits, the coffee—everything flew across the floor, splashing against the cabinets in a messy heap of broken ceramic and wasted food.

"I don't want your food," Logan hissed. "I want you gone. Every time I see your face, I feel like I’m suffocating. Do you understand? You’re a parasite, clinging to a life that was never yours."

Rosser laughed from the corner. "Should I call the omegas to clean this up, or is the 'Luna' going to get on her knees and do it?"

I stared at the mess on the floor, the steam still rising from the ruins of the breakfast I’d made with shaking hands. "You’re really doing this," I whispered. "For her? A woman who left you when things got hard?"

Logan stepped over the broken glass, ignoring the way it crunched under his boots. He grabbed a piece of toast from Chloe’s hand—she had picked it up from a side basket—and took a bite, looking me dead in the eye.

"She’s worth more than a thousand of you," Logan said. "Chloe, go upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute."

Chloe nodded, throwing me a look of pure triumph before disappearing.

Logan turned back to me, his expression flat. "I’m going to the pack meeting. When I get back, those papers better be signed. If they aren't, I won't just dissolve the marriage. I’ll strip you of your wolf’s rank and cast you out as a nameless omega. Choose wisely, Giuliana."

He walked out, leaving me standing in the wreckage of the kitchen.

"Better start scrubbing, honey," Rosser mocked, tossing a dirty napkin onto the floor. "It’s the only thing you’re actually good at."

I waited until she left. Then, I sank to my knees among the shards of glass. I didn't cry. I was past crying. I started picking up the pieces of the plates, my fingers stinging as the sharp edges sliced into my skin.

I looked at the blood dripping onto the white tile.

I realized then that Logan wouldn't stop until he had completely destroyed me. He didn't just want a divorce; he wanted to erase the fact that I had ever existed in his world.

I stood up and walked toward his study. The papers were still in the envelope. My hand trembled as I picked up the pen on his desk the heavy, gold pen I’d given him when he was inaugurated as Alpha.

I looked at the signature line.

If I signed this, I was nothing. If I didn't, he would hunt me.