The King’s Daughter

Divorce After Betrayal

The dining room is too quiet. The only sound is the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, and I feel it counting down to something I don’t want to face. I’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, but it’s only been minutes. My fingers are trembling as I wait, a small part of me still hoping for him to come through that door with some sign of affection, any sign that he might finally look at me again.

But when Dylan walks in, it’s not that hope that hits me but his coldness. The familiar, suffocating coldness that has only gotten worse over the years.

“You’re finally back,” I say, trying to make my voice steady. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come home again.”

He doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, he walks over to the table, his boots clicking on the floor with a finality that matches the expression on his face. Without a word, he tosses a stack of papers onto the table between us.

“Sign them,” he says, his tone like ice.

I swallow hard, my chest tightening as I reach for the papers. My hands shake as I flip through them. Divorce papers. The weight of the bold letters hits me harder than I expected, and I feel a pang in my chest, a dull ache that has never really gone away.

“Divorce?” I whisper, as if saying it out loud will make this nightmare real.

“I’ve been patient, Chloe,” Dylan says, his arms crossed. “This isn’t working. Serena needs the title of Luna, and I’m giving it to her.”

My chest tightens, my breath hitching. Serena. Of course. It’s always been about her.

“Serena?” My voice shakes, barely a whisper. “This is about her?”

His eyes flicker briefly, but the mask never falters. “She’s been with me when you couldn’t handle your duties. She deserves it. I don’t want a barren Luna. Not anymore.”

His words hit like a slap across the face. I can’t stop myself from flinching, but I don’t look away. I won’t. Not this time.

‘Barren.’ That’s what they all called me—the pack, his mother, the other Alphas. It doesn’t matter that I tried.

That I stayed calm and prayed for the miracle they all wanted. I did everything I could, holding onto the hope that Dylan would finally see me. Touch me. Love me again.

I wanted to believe that someday, he’d come around. I thought that if I persevered long enough, things would change. But they never did.

I remember the loneliness of those four years. The silence that stretched between us, suffocating any attempt at closeness. Dylan only touched me once during our marriage, that one time he tried to pretend we were a real couple. That night, I thought it was a sign. But it was the only time.

I remember the whispers, the looks, the way his mother would sneer at me when I failed to conceive. The pack’s cruel comments that I was barren. I tried to ignore it. I thought I could weather it all, if only for Dylan.

And then I found out. The truth. Dylan had been sleeping with Serena every night. He never even tried to hide it from me. But I ignored it. I couldn’t bear to face the reality of it.

I stayed because I loved him. Even after everything. Even after the betrayal.

I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I thought it was okay to put up with it.

The tears brim in my eyes, but I force them back. I can’t let him see me cry. Not now. Not when I finally have the strength to leave.

“You’ll be fine, Chloe,” Dylan says, his voice flat and detached. “Take the house, or I’ll get you another. There's land in the southern territory. Money. Everything you’ll need to start over.”

‘Compensation.’ That’s all this is to him. All of it. I could feel the sting of it deep in my chest. All my years of love, all the sacrifice, reduced to a settlement.

“Compensation,” I whisper bitterly. “Is that all I am to you?”

He doesn’t even look at me when he speaks. “Yes. You’re free now. To live your life. To forget me.”

I stand up from the table, my legs trembling, but I force myself to stay standing. I refuse to break in front of him. Not anymore.

“You’ll regret this, Dylan,” I say, my voice shaking with the weight of everything I’ve held back. “One day, you’ll realize what you’ve lost. And when you do, I hope it destroys you.”

His eyes flicker for just a moment, something—guilt? Regret?—passing over his face. But it’s gone before I can process it, and he turns toward the door.

“I’ll send someone to collect the papers,” he says, not even looking back.

I stare at his retreating form, my heart breaking all over again.

“Goodbye, Dylan,” I whisper to the empty room, and for the first time, I don’t care who hears me. I don’t care about anything anymore.

I take the papers, my hands still shaking as I hold them. For four years, I tried to be everything he wanted. And for what? For this moment? For this betrayal?

I stand in the silence, my chest hollow and aching.

I don’t remember how I packed my things. My hands moved on their own, pulling clothes from the closet, stuffing them into a suitcase, leaving behind everything that had once been mine. The house, the pack, my life with Dylan—all of it now feels like a faded dream. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the bedroom we shared, the bed where I had once hoped we’d find our way back to each other.

Instead, I left quickly, and quietly. As though slipping away unnoticed would somehow make it easier.

But as the door clicked shut behind me, the weight of it all hit me with full force. I was leaving everything I knew—the only life I’d ever had. No more pretending. No more hoping for something that would never come.

I could feel the eyes of the pack on me as I walked down the hall toward the exit. I could hear their whispers, their judgments. Some of them, I knew, would be happy to see me go. I had never truly belonged here, not in their eyes. They had always looked at me with pity, with scorn. I was the barren Luna. The failure.

But I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t theirs to judge. I was leaving.

I reached the door, hesitated for a moment, and then stepped outside. The cool air hit my face, and I drew in a deep breath. The world outside was wide, unknown. For the first time, it felt like no chains were holding me back.

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers still shaky from everything that had just happened. When I dialed my father’s number, it felt like the last tether to my past, to the life I once had.

The phone rang once, twice, before he answered.

“Chloe?” My father’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was something else there—concern, worry. He had known I’d been struggling. I had just never been able to admit it out loud.

“I—I’m sorry, Dad,” I said, my voice breaking as soon as I heard his voice. “I know I was impulsive. But I’m done. I’m done with him. With them. I’m leaving.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and for a moment, I wondered if I had lost him too. But then I heard him speak, his voice steady and calm, like it always was when I needed him most.

“I’m on my way, Chloe. We’ll come and get you. It’s time to come home.”

I almost couldn’t believe it. After everything, my father was still there. He was still willing to take me back.

“I’ll be waiting,” I whispered, my heart heavy but somehow lighter than it had been in years.

As I ended the call, I felt the sting of everything I was leaving behind—Dylan, the pack, my identity as their Luna. But I knew it was the only way to find who I truly was again.

I sat down on the steps outside the house, hugging my knees to my chest. My mind wandered back to the day I had left my royal life behind to marry Dylan. The promises he had made, the love I thought we shared. I had given it all up for him, but now, I was left with nothing.

I should have known better. But I couldn’t blame myself anymore.

I needed to move on. For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe there was still a future for me. A future outside the walls of the pack, outside of Dylan’s shadow.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, knowing they were the last I’d shed over him.