Dump the Alpha, Mated to the King

Mira opened the door of her manor, her bones aching with exhaustion. Silence and emptiness greeted her. Although she hadn't secured a formal collaboration with the king, the business trip to the royal capital had been far from a waste. The bracelet King Evren had given her-the same one she'd almost taken off-opened doors that had once required negotiation and persuasion. Contracts that had stalled for months were finalized within days. Conversations shifted when she entered the room. For the first time, her team had looked at her not as the Alpha's wife, but as a leader in her own right. The success had satisfied her, stirred something deeper. It pushed her to want more, to secure every remaining contract, to finalize her divorce as soon as possible. It had felt good, like she was back to being the Mira she was before she let herself get lost in love. Now she stood alone, in her home, the emptiness a reminder of what her life had become. She hadn't heard from Adrian-since he'd broken his promise to go meet Ivy-nor felt the familiar pulse of the mate bond. It had been radio silence between them. Slowly, she was getting used to his absence, getting used to living without him. Even the house no longer smelled like him. His scent had long since faded. The old Mira would have been hurt. She would have felt the ache in her chest, would have reached instinctively for her mate. But the new Mira-the one determined to finally stand on her own-did not care. She sighed, glancing down at her bracelet once more. In the short time she'd had it, it had become an anchor. She shut the door behind her, heading for the one place she craved the most. Her bedroom. The long days of meetings, negotiations, and travel finally caught up with her. Just to rest. Just for a moment. She lay down fully clothed, the bracelet cool against her skin as she drifted into sleep. *** The air was thick, still-in a way that made the hairs on her neck stand up. "Mira, run!" A woman screamed. Mira tried, she really tried to run, to get away from there, but the scene was too gruesome, the pain too heavy. "No," Mira sobbed, getting closer, grabbing the woman's hand-her mother's hand. Her movement was slow, too slow, her limbs were heavy with pain and grief. A sob escaped her lips-raw and broken. There was blood. Too much blood. It coated her hands, the ground, the woman's clothes. As she held her dying mother's hand, the moment it had all gone wrong replayed in her head. She heard her mother's scream again and again, heard her being torn into. "Mother," it was a broken, helpless whisper. She sobbed, shaking the woman's shoulders. The woman tried to speak, struggled to move but in the end, all she could do was lie there and let the darkness slowly take her. Mira watched the life drain from her green eyes-identical to Mira's. She screamed, grabbing her limp mother, pain clawing at her chest. It had to be a dream, it had to be. She heard movement, saw it from her side eye but she didn't get a chance to react. She was thrown across the room, her back hitting the wall. The pain was instant, sharp and blinding. She couldn't move, could only lie there-gasping for air, struggling to breathe-as heavy footsteps approached. The footsteps were slow, torturous. Until obsidian orbs came into view. They were dark, filled with venom. His face twisted into a sneer and in that moment, she knew what was going to happen. Her instinct screamed at her to get up, to leave but her body was too weak. He touched her. She felt his hands, caressing, groping, squeezing as helpless, broken sobs left her throat. She was there again, feeling everything, hearing it all again, smelling it all again. He was going to defile her. Her lungs pressed in on themselves, making it harder to breathe. Her vision blurred. No! She felt her body growing weaker, worn from everything that had happened. Her vision swam. She was going to pass out. Panic surged, hot and consuming. "No!" She screamed. "Shh..." Mira suddenly heard. She froze, her eyes snapping open. "It's okay. I've got you. I'll protect you." It was suddenly very dark, but what stuck out to her was the fact that she didn't feel the callous hands anymore, didn't feel the hard ground biting into her skin. She felt warmth, familiar yet faraway. She leaned into it, craving comfort, craving relief from the pain. From everything. She caught a scent. It was familiar, sweet in a way that called her. Her wolf stirred, awakening from her trauma-induced slumber. "You're safe." She believed the voice. She squinted, trying to see who it was, to reach that familiar spot she felt. Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch him. She was close, so close. Then her eyes snapped open. She gasped, sitting up, panting. That same nightmare, that same memory-the day her life had ended. The day her mother had been killed. Her chest tightened. She felt that familiar pain that lingered, the pain that never really went away. But this time, it was tinged with something else, comfort. She felt warmth on her skin. And when she looked down, the bracelet the King had gifted her was glowing. She gasped, bringing it closer to study. It didn't feel dangerous, didn't feel alarming. It felt comforting. She leaned into it subconsciously. As the glow subsided, only one thought remained in her mind. Who had he been? The man in her dream who had comforted her? She knew it wasn't Adrian. So who was he-and why had her body responded to him like that? Her phone blared, dragging her out of the haze. An alarm. Mira flinched, her heart still racing as she reached for the device. For a second, the room felt unfamiliar-too quiet, too still-until reality settled back into place. The manor bedroom. The pale afternoon light filtering through half-drawn curtains. The steady weight of the bracelet around her wrist, cool now, lifeless once more. She exhaled shakily and glanced at the screen. Therapy Session - 4:00 PM. Of course. She rubbed a hand over her face and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her body felt heavy, as though the dream had taken something from her and not given it back. The echo of that voice still lingered in her mind-calm, patient, protective. "You're safe." She pushed the thought away. There would be time to unpack it later. Right now, she needed to be present. *** "Grief doesn't just disappear, Mira," Dr. Eleanor reassured. "It takes time, years even. But it never really goes away." Mira nodded absently, her mind far from the therapy session. Her eyes were fixed on the window, focusing on movements outside. As much as she loved her therapist, she sometimes wished she didn't have to see the woman. Dr. Eleanor was an elderly woman with strawberry blonde hair and kind hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that were currently trying to unravel Mira. "And the man you saw, it has to be Alpha Adrian." Mira stiffened, her eyes immediately darting back to the woman. "No, it wasn't." She countered, her thoughts slipping back to her dream. "I'm certain of it. It was someone else." "You mentioned how your body reacted," Eleanor responded gently. "Only a mate can trigger such reaction." Mira opened her mouth to respond, but no words could leave her mouth. Nothing she'd say would make sense to anyone but herself. "It had to have been Alpha Adrian. I think you should focus on that. In times like this, when you feel down, lean into the matebond for anchoring." Her body reacted before her mind caught up. Her eyes immediately hardened, her jaw clenching. The elderly woman who had spent enough time around the girl instantly knew something was wrong. "Is everything okay with you two?" Eleanor asked, her brows creasing in concern. Mira hesitated. She considered telling her-telling someone exactly how she'd been feeling, how her husband's actions had hurt her, how her heart had become numb to the pain-but she knew better. Eleanor would either defend Adrian, or convince her to stay. And she didn't have the mental energy to hear that. So she forced a smile, raising her chin. "Yes, Eleanor." her smile widened-practiced. "Adrian and I are fine." Eleanor leaned forward slightly, her eyes squinted, studying her client closely. "You didn't say his name once today" Mira forced a laugh, waving her hand in feigned casualness. "Fine," she rolled her eyes. "We may have had a little argument this afternoon. He wanted me to spend more time with him instead of coming for today's session." "Hm," Eleanor hummed, still studying her client. "You know how possessive Alphas can be." Mira added. Finally, Dr. Eleanor settled back in her seat, momentarily satisfied. "Alright. Remember to take your time, don't force yourself to get better." Mira nodded, already standing to her feet. The therapy session always felt too long, too suffocating. As much as she hated each session, she always left the room feeling lighter, as if speaking her pain aloud had loosened its grip, even if only slightly. "Alright, goodbye Eleanor" she waved. "Thank you." The woman didn't get to respond before Mira shut the door softly. She stepped out into the corridor, adjusting the strap of her bag, ready to leave. That was when she heard it. A familiar voice drifted from the VIP therapy room down the hall-low, tense, unmistakable. She froze. She recognized that voice. Adrian. Her pulse spiked as the sound of his voice drifted through the partially closed door, stirring something sharp and unwelcome in her chest. She hadn't meant to listen. Hadn't meant to stop. But her feet refused to move. And before she could talk herself out of it, she realized-whatever was happening in that room, whatever Adrian was finally saying aloud... She was about to hear it. She got closer, heart pounding, instincts alert. The next words she heard made her heart stop completely. "Ivy." Adrian paused. "She's pregnant."