Book One: Rejecting My Ruthless Alpha Mate

ROXIE

I smooth down the front of my dress for the third time tonight, checking the dining room one last time. The table looks perfect—candles flickering between dishes I spent all afternoon preparing.

Roasted chicken with herbs from the garden. Garlic mashed potatoes, the way Ravi used to love them. Fresh bread still warm from the oven.

Five years. Five years married today.

My wolf stirs restlessly inside me, or at least, the echo of where she used to be. The phantom pain of her absence never quite fades. I press my hand against my chest, willing away the hollow ache.

The front door opens, and my heart leaps. Ravi’s home.

“You’re back,” I say, moving toward him. He looks tired, his dark hair slightly disheveled from the flight. Still handsome enough to make my breath catch, even now. “I made dinner. Your favorite—”

“Already ate.” He doesn’t even glance at the table as he heads straight for the stairs. “I’m taking a shower.”

The words hit like a slap. I stand there, frozen, as he disappears up the stairs without a backward glance. Not even a hello. Not even acknowledgment that today means something.

My phone buzzes on the counter.

I shouldn’t look. I know I shouldn’t look. But my hand reaches for it anyway.

The message is from an unknown number, but I recognize the screenshot immediately—Iris’s social media. My stomach twists as I stare at the image. Ravi and Iris at an oceanside restaurant, candlelight between them.

Another photo: the two of them on the beach, fireworks exploding in the sky behind them. She’s laughing, her head tilted toward his shoulder. In the foreground, a bouquet of red roses.

Posted two hours ago.

My chest hollows out. While I was lighting candles and checking the roast for the third time, he was with her. Giving her the smile I haven’t seen in years. Giving her roses.

I hear the shower turn off upstairs. My hands are shaking as I set the phone down, face-down, like I can unsee what I just saw. Like I can unknow it.

Ravi appears at the top of the stairs, still damp from the shower, wearing only low-slung sweatpants. Despite everything, my body responds to the sight of him. It always does.

He descends the stairs, his amber eyes finally landing on me. There’s something in his gaze—hunger, maybe. But not the kind that has anything to do with love.

“Roxie.” My name sounds like a command.

He crosses the room in three strides, his hand catching my chin, tilting my face up. His kiss is rough, demanding, and tastes like salt air. Like the ocean. Like her.

“Ravi, wait—” I try to pull back, but his grip tightens. “I don’t feel well.”

He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Don’t feel well? That’s new. You’re usually the one clinging to me, begging for scraps of attention.” His mouth moves to my neck. “Now you want to play hard to get?”

“That’s not—I’m not—”

But he’s already pulling me toward the stairs, toward our bedroom. His bedroom, really. I’m just permitted to sleep there.

I don’t fight as he pulls me onto the bed. What would be the point? This is what our marriage is—him taking what he wants, when he wants it, and me pretending it’s enough. Pretending his hands on my body mean something more than just convenient access.

He pushes up my dress, and I close my eyes.

Focus on something else, I tell myself. Anywhere else.

But all I can see behind my closed eyelids are those photos. Ravi’s smile—the real one, the one I haven’t seen in years—directed at Iris. The gentle way his hand rested on the small of her back. The roses.

When it’s over, I lie there with my eyes still closed, not wanting to see his face.

A tear escapes anyway, sliding down my temple into my hair.

The bed shifts as Ravi reaches for the nightstand. He wipes the tear away with his thumb, almost tender. Then he presses something into my hand.

I open my eyes. The small white contraceptive pill packet. Always there. Always ready.

“Please, Ravi.” My voice cracks. “You know what those do to me. They make me so sick. I’ll be throwing up for hours, I can’t—”

“Take it.” His voice is flat, final.

“Please, my stomach can’t handle them. Last time I was sick all night—”

He holds the pills, facing me, unmoving and silent. I know it’s a refusal, and there’s no room for argument.

Tears blur my vision as I put the contraceptive pill on my tongue. My hand trembles. He hands me the water glass, watches me swallow. Watches to make sure I really do it.

Ravi’s phone rings on the nightstand. He glances at the screen, and his entire face changes—softens. He answers it immediately.

“Hey.” His voice is warm, gentle. Everything it never is with me. “Yeah, I just got back. Give me twenty minutes?”

He’s getting up, reaching for his clothes. My heart clenches. “Where are you going?”

He pulls on his shirt, not looking at me. “Out.”

“But you just got home—” I reach for his hand without thinking.

He jerks away like I’ve burned him. “That’s none of your business.” His amber eyes are cold, dismissive. “Know your place.”

He walks out.

I hear the front door close. Hear his car start. Hear it pull away.

The nausea hits me in waves. The pill, already wreaking havoc on my empty stomach. Or maybe it’s the thought of where he’s going. Who he’s going to. The idea of him leaving our bed to hold someone else with the tenderness he’s never shown me.

I remember the first night we were together. The Silver Moon Clan’s annual gathering, the grandest event of the year. I’d been so excited to attend, wearing my mother’s silver dress, my hair pinned up with moonstone clips. Someone had handed me a drink— champagne, I’d thought. Just champagne.

But it wasn’t.

Neither of us knew we’d been drugged until it was too late. The mating frenzy hit us both like wildfire, and we’d ended up in one of the guest rooms, unable to stop, unable to think past the burning need consuming us.

I’d woken up alone the next morning, my mother’s dress torn, my body aching. And three weeks later, I’d stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, knowing my life would never be the same.

The clans had forced the marriage, a secret one. Can’t have the Alpha of the Iron Claw Clan unmarried with a bastard child on the way. But Ravi made it clear from the start that he’d never wanted this. Never wanted me.

Iris had left for Europe right after our wedding. Heartbroken, everyone said. The woman Ravi actually loved, driven away by his obligation to marry the woman who’d “trapped” him.

I’ve spent five years trying to make him see I didn’t plan it. That I was a victim too. That maybe, possibly, we could build something real from the wreckage.

Five years of trying to earn a love he’s never going to give me. I rush to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet.

I’m still on my knees on the cold tile floor when I hear small footsteps behind me. “Mommy?”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together before I turn around. My son—Kai—stands in the doorway in his dinosaur pajamas, his dark hair messy from sleep.

“Hey, baby.” I try to smile, but my face feels like it might crack. “Did I wake you?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares at me with those amber eyes—Ravi’s eyes. At five years old, he already looks so much like his father it hurts.

My heart softens despite everything. This is why I stay. Why I endure the cold indifference, the pills, the knowledge that my husband is probably with another woman right now. Because I have Kai. Because he needs me.

Because maybe if I can’t make Ravi love me, at least I can make sure our son knows he’s loved.

“Come here, sweetheart.” I hold out my arms, needing to hold him. Needing something good in this nightmare of a night.

But Kai doesn’t move toward me. Instead, he crosses his small arms over his chest, his expression eerily similar to his father’s when he’s disappointed.

“Mom,” he says, and his voice is flat. Cold. “You should divorce Dad.” The words don’t make sense at first. I stare at him, sure I misheard. “What?”

“You should divorce Dad,” he repeats, like he’s talking about what he wants for breakfast. “I want Auntie Iris to be my new mom.”