He stood there in the doorway, wearing a sharp suit that smelled faintly of coffee and city wind. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. “Hey, let’s celebrate our reunion! How about dinner? My treat.”
I blinked, surprised. “You’re already being super kind letting us stay here. I can’t let you spend more on us.”
“Come on,” he said, smiling. “You were one of the top lawyers back then, and you mentored me. Think of it as payback for all those private lessons. Evelyn, are you really treating me like a stranger now?”
His mock-offended tone made me laugh, a sound that startled even me. It had been a while since I’d laughed without forcing it.
“Alright,” he said quickly, seizing the moment. “It’s settled. Go get Lana, and I’ll bring the car around.”
With that easy grin of his, it was hard to refuse. I nodded and turned toward the bedroom. My wolf gave a quiet huff of amusement, sensing my guard slipping just a little.
As I disappeared down the hallway, I heard Peter step into the living room. A faint rustle followed, the unmistakable sound of paper sliding across the table.
When I returned, Lana asleep in my arms, his gaze met mine. He looked caught, almost guilty.
He lifted the document slowly. “This is…” he began, eyes flicking between the paper and me.
Evelyn’s POV
“My freedom,” I said quietly.
Peter’s voice broke slightly as he spoke. “Evelyn, have you really thought this through?”
He was staring at the signature again, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it, signed the divorce papers.
I could feel his gaze, heavy with disbelief, but I didn’t flinch. “I was too obsessed before,” I said quietly, pressing my lips together. “Now I’ve figured it out.”
My words were calm, but my wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, as if testing the truth of what I’d said. She didn’t growl, just sighed. Even she was tired of chasing the ghost of a bond that had never been real.
A faint smile curved my lips. My hair fell across my face, and for once, I didn’t bother to tuck it away.
Peter stared at me like he didn’t recognize who I was anymore. Maybe he didn’t. The Evelyn he remembered had burned too brightly for an Alpha who never looked her way. This new version of me was quieter, colder, like moonlight on still water. My wolf had changed too, once fierce and full of longing, now silent and watchful.
I saw the flicker of emotion in Peter’s eyes before he ducked his head. He was blushing.
“Good that you’ve figured it out,” he murmured, his tone softer now. Then, as if realizing the air had grown too heavy, he added quickly, “Lana’s probably getting hungry. I brought her bottle.”
I exhaled, grateful for the change. Neither of us wanted to keep peeling open old wounds.
He took us to a new restaurant by the river. The night breeze carried the scent of damp earth and lake water. It was refreshing and wild. My wolf stretched inside me, feeling content. Lana, who had been drowsy in the car, perked up, her tiny hands reaching toward the lights outside the window.
When she caught Peter’s gaze, she smiled, a little flash of sunlight that melted even his usually composed demeanor. A warm smile etched itself onto Peter’s face as he watched her.
Dinner was quiet. I’d never been much of an eater, and my appetite was worse since… everything. I pushed the food around on my plate more than I ate it.
Peter had chosen a window seat, the perfect view of the lake reflecting the fading sun. The water shimmered like liquid silver, and for a heartbeat, I imagined running beside it in my wolf form, fast and free.
But then the reflection in the glass reminded me of the scar that crossed my cheek. Peter noticed too. His eyes darkened with something between pity and pain.
Peter didn’t ask what had happened to me in that year behind bars. He didn’t need to. My silence said enough.
I saw the tension in his jaw, the faint tremor in his hand under the table. He was a bit uneasy, I could sense it. Anger, regret, frustration all rolled off him in faint waves.
He glanced at his phone and frowned. “Evelyn, there’s an emergency meeting at the company. I have to be there.”
I nodded. “It’s fine. I’m done eating anyway.”
“What a shame,” he sighed. “I booked a private screening room at the theater near my office. It’s too late to cancel.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t in the mood for movies or crowds, but when our eyes met, I realized what he was trying to do. He wanted to help me, help me remember what it felt like to live again.
“Okay,” I said softly.
He smiled, visibly relieved, and escorted me to the theater entrance.
Peter pressed two tickets into my hand and bent down to tickle Lana’s tiny fingers. “Sweetheart, I’ll come get you and Mommy real soon,” he said, his voice gentle. Then, as if remembering something, he pulled a shawl from the car and draped it over my shoulders. “It’s getting chilly. Don’t catch a cold.”
His thoughtfulness caught me off guard. A feeling of warmth spread within me.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
With Lana in my arms, I turned toward the entrance of the cinema.
Declan’s POV
My office was quiet. I’d been buried in contracts for hours, my wolf restless beneath my skin, pacing like a caged beast. Paperwork never came easy to me.
The stack in front of me was more than just ink and signatures. It was a distraction. Anything to keep my mind off her.
The scent of ink, stale coffee, and exhaustion filled the room, until a knock came at my door.
“Come in,” I said, my voice rough from disuse.
It was Peter Clarke.
His nervous energy hit me like static as the door creaked open. “Alpha Declan, this document is urgent and needs your signature.”
My brows furrowed the instant he spoke. Evelyn had once spoken highly of him, she had trained him even. After she left, he’d gone ghost, barely showing his face. Now, suddenly, here he was.
I lifted my gaze. He stood there with that polished look. He wore new suit, gold frames, but the scent of fear clung to him stronger than cologne. My wolf didn’t like it. Neither did I.
“What kind of document requires you to deliver it personally?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. My tone came out lower than I intended, edged with the growl that slipped through when I was tired.
He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. His fingers twitched on the folder. “I just remembered it suddenly and didn’t want to bother the staff.”
I let my gaze drift toward the document he was clutching. “Just leave it there. I’ll have Collins take care of it before I leave.”
“It’s pretty urgent,” he pressed. “I’ll just wait here while you sign it and take it with me. No need to trouble Collins.”
That made me pause. His tone was too tight. The insistence, too rehearsed. My instincts sharpened, my hackles rising. Something wasn’t right.
The air in the room thickened, my wolf baring its teeth in silent warning. “I said leave it,” I snapped, rubbing my temples to rein my temper back. My beast didn’t like being challenged, not by someone as jittery as Peter Clarke.
He flinched at my tone, and the scent of his fear spiked, sour and sharp. For a moment, I almost felt bad for him, almost. He muttered something under his breath, bowed slightly, and backed out, shutting the door behind him.
The click of the latch echoed louder than it should’ve.
I set my pen down and dragged the stack of files he’d left closer, my gaze sharpening. Peter Clarke had been acting too strange, too stiff, too deliberate. I flipped open the folder, scanning through the so-called “urgent papers.”
There were contracts, basic partnership renewals, legal drafts. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The tension in my shoulders eased a little, until I reached a particular page and my pen froze mid-signature.
The page didn’t fit. The paper texture was different, It was thinner, cheaper and the faintest trace of an all-too-familiar scent drifted up from it. My chest tightened as I pulled it free.
Evelyn.
Her scent still clung to the paper’s edges, making my pulse skip. My eyes darted to the bottom of the page.
And then my blood ran cold.
Her signature was there, written in bold, steady strokes.
The words above it burned into my mind: Divorce Agreement.
Declan’s POV
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The world seemed to tilt on its axis and my wolf reared up within me, snarling.
She signed it.
My fingers clenched around the hard cover of the folder until it creaked. My eyes scanned the page again, every word slicing deeper.
A low growl escaped before I could stop it. The pen in my hand snapped clean in two, ink smearing across my palm.
Peter.
It all made sense now. His sudden appearance, the fake urgency. The way he had avoided my eyes.
He had been with her.
That realization hit harder than any punch. I’d searched every trail in the city and she’d been hiding with him?
My chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. My wolf pushed against my skin, furious, betrayed and aching. She chose another male’s den, a man beneath me for that matter.
I slammed my hand down on the desk, the sound echoing through the empty office as I let out an angry growl.
She wouldn’t come home to me, yet she was with Peter, signing divorce papers, pretending like I’d never existed.
My eyes darkened, turning the color of midnight.
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