The Alpha's Secretly Barren And Rejected Mate

Evelyn POV:

"Luna. Alpha orders you to go home."

Lynn Sullivan, Kaden's Beta and personal assistant, stood by my car window, her expression cold and laced with pity. She rapped her knuckles softly against the glass, waiting for me to roll it down. Over the past few months, she had relayed all sorts of excuses—meetings, business trips, overtime. Now, not even a reason.

Outside the car window, the polished chrome and dark glass of the Alexander Group's private club reflected the city lights like scattered jewels. A place I was never invited to.

I lifted my gaze past Lynn, to the grand revolving doors of the club. And then I saw him.

Kaden. My husband. My Alpha.

He was a silhouette of power against the warm interior light, tall and imposing. But he wasn't alone.

A smaller, delicate figure stood beside him. Bianca Black. His childhood friend. His confidante.

The wind picked up, whipping a strand of her pale blonde hair across her face. She shivered, a theatrical, fragile gesture, and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Kaden's brow furrowed. Without a moment's hesitation, he shrugged off his tailored suit jacket—the one I had pressed for him this morning, making sure the lapels were perfect—and draped it over her shoulders.

A sudden, sharp pang lanced through the mate bond in my chest—a wave of emotion that wasn't mine. It was warm, tender, laced with a fierce protectiveness and a deep, undeniable affection. Love. Kaden's love. But it wasn't directed at me. It was aimed at her. The woman beside him. A feeling I recognized. Maybe, in the very beginning, it had been mine. But that had changed long ago, faded into something distant and foreign. Now I understood—his coldness was never for anyone else. It was reserved for me. Only me. My stomach clenched.

My heart didn't just sink. It felt like it was ripped out of my chest and stomped on the cold pavement. The jacket, a symbol of his protection, his warmth, now cocooned another woman.

He led her to his car, a sleek black Aston Martin. He opened the passenger door for her. A seat I had never once occupied. In our four years of marriage, I had always been driven by his security, or I drove myself.

As he leaned in to make sure she was settled, Bianca tilted her head up. Her lips pressed against his cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.

Kaden didn't pull away. He didn't even flinch.

A raw, guttural cry tore through my mind, the sound of my inner wolf howling in agony. It was a pain so profound it felt physical, a tearing of my very soul.

My foot slammed on the accelerator.

The tires shrieked in protest, burning rubber on the asphalt. I was gone before Kaden could even turn his head, the image of his betrayal seared into my memory.

The penthouse, our multi-million-dollar cage in the sky, was dark and silent when I arrived. The only greeting was the echo of my own footsteps on the marble floor.

I walked into the master bedroom. His side of the king-sized bed was pristine, untouched. He hadn't come home last night either.

On his nightstand, a single piece of paper was held down by a heavy crystal paperweight. His handwriting, a bold, arrogant scrawl, covered the note.

"Sign it."

Beneath the note was an attendance confirmation for a charity gala. Another night of playing the perfect, devoted couple. Another masquerade.

A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips.

I walked into the massive walk-in closet. His suits were lined up with military precision, the air thick with his scent—cedarwood and power. It was a scent that used to make me feel safe. Now, it just made me feel hollow.

My eyes landed on the white shirt he'd worn yesterday, tossed carelessly onto the valet stand. I picked it up. On the collar, faint but unmistakable, was the cloying, sweet scent of gardenia perfume.

Bianca's scent.

The shirt slipped from my fingers.

Four years. Four years I had honored the bond the Moon Goddess had forced upon us. I had been the perfect Luna, the dutiful wife, enduring the whispers of the pack who saw me as nothing more than a stray Omega who got lucky.

And for what? For this public humiliation. For the constant, gnawing ache of loneliness.

My hand went to my stomach. I thought of the secret I held close, the one I'd never shared with him. The reason, I suspected, for his coldness. The silver dagger from that rogue attack years ago hadn't just left a scar on my skin. It had poisoned me, stolen my ability to give him what an Alpha wants most.

A pure-blooded heir.

Maybe that was it. But he didn't know. He couldn't know. And yet, this still felt like a slow, cruel punishment.

My gaze fell on the smart-home control panel by the door, its small screen glowing in the dark. A sudden, reckless resolve hardened within me.

If he wanted to treat me like I didn't exist, then I would erase my presence.

My finger pressed the "Main Power" icon. The screen flickered, asking for confirmation. I pressed "Yes."

Instantly, the entire penthouse plunged into absolute, suffocating darkness. The hum of the refrigerator died. The glow of the alarm clocks vanished. Silence.

I wasn't done. I navigated to the water supply. Off. The building's private network connection. Off.

I pulled out my phone, its screen the only light in the vast darkness. My fingers were steady as I found the number.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Mr. Davis," I said, my voice as cold and dead as the apartment around me. "Start the proceedings. I want to file for a separation of bond from Kaden Alexander."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end.

"And," I added, my voice dropping to a whisper of steel, "as per the pre-nuptial agreement, I want what's mine. My half. The shares in Alexander Group. Every last one."