The Genius Designer Escapes Her Alpha

DAVINA'S POV:

The sterile, suffocating smell of bleach hit me the moment I burst through the hospital doors. I sprinted toward the ICU, my legs trembling so violently I could barely stand.

Through the cold glass window, I saw my brother, Emmett. He was hooked up to a ventilator, his usually pale face now a terrifying shade of blue. Seeing him so fragile, so close to death, felt like a brutal grip crushing my heart.

"How did it get this bad?" I grabbed Martha's arm, my voice cracking. Emmett had always been frail, a wolfless human in a werewolf world, but he had never ended up in the ICU.

Martha, his caregiver, looked at me with red, swollen eyes. She hesitated before whispering, "Master Emmett... he saw the entertainment news this afternoon. The photos of the Alpha King and... that woman. He locked himself in his room, left the window wide open in the freezing wind, and by nightfall, the fever spiked."

I stumbled backward, my spine hitting the icy wall. It was because of me. The humiliation of my pathetic marriage was literally killing my brother.

The harsh ring of the nurse's station phone pierced the air. The head nurse looked at me with clinical detachment. "Are you Emmett Hayes' family? The pneumonia has triggered acute respiratory failure. He needs emergency surgery. We need a deposit of two hundred thousand dollars immediately, or we cannot proceed with the treatment."

Two hundred thousand.

Martha panicked. "Luna, I have some savings..."

"No," I forced a hollow smile, pushing her hands back. "Keep your retirement money. I have it."

I paused, swallowing the bitter lump in my throat. "If it's not enough, I'll ask Corbin. Don't believe the paparazzi trash online. Corbin and I... we're fine."

I waved my phone and turned away, walking quickly into the deserted stairwell. The moment the heavy fire door clicked shut, the fake smile on my face shattered completely. I wasn't trying to hide the truth; I just couldn't bear to let my dying brother's caregiver see how utterly worthless I was.

With shaking fingers, I dialed Lauren Sullivan, Corbin's executive assistant.

"Lauren, it's Davina. I need an emergency transfer of two hundred thousand dollars from the pack's medical fund right now."

On the other end, Lauren's voice dripped with blatant impatience and a sneer she didn't even try to hide. "Luna, do you know what time it is? The Alpha King left strict orders. All of your 'large expenditures' require his personal signature. Besides, the pack funds are for wolves, not for treating a wolfless freak."

"You—"

"And the Alpha King is... currently indisposed. I cannot interrupt him. Goodnight." Click.

I stared at the darkened screen, my fingertips turning to ice. Indisposed. That single word was a poisoned needle stabbing directly into my chest. The entire pack looked down on me, knowing my husband was out with another woman, while my brother was suffocating in an ICU bed.

I stared at the number I had memorized by heart. Corbin's private line. I pressed call. Please, Corbin. Just this once. Pick up.

To my shock, the call connected almost instantly. But the voice that floated through the speaker made the blood freeze in my veins.

"Hello? Who is this?" It was a woman's voice. Soft, melodious, laced with a lazy, post-coital satisfaction.

Collette Walsh.

In that split second, my heart stopped beating. "Put Corbin on the phone," I demanded, using every ounce of willpower to keep my voice from trembling.

"Oh, Davina!" Collette's tone shifted to sickeningly sweet, dripping with false innocence. In the background, I could clearly hear the sound of a shower running. "Corby is in the bathroom washing up. Did you need something? I can pass a message."

She paused, then let out a soft, mocking giggle. "Let me guess. You need money for that crippled brother of yours? Corby was just complaining to me about how exhausting it is to fund a bottomless pit. You really shouldn't burden him so much, Davina. He works so hard."

"Shut up."

I didn't wait for her to say another word. I ended the call.

My legs finally gave out. I slid down the rough concrete wall, collapsing onto the cold stairwell floor.

I thought of the girl I was three years ago, full of hope, believing my fated mate would eventually love me. I thought of how I swallowed my pride, playing the perfect, obedient Luna. I thought of the searing pain of the wolfsbane I drank just hours ago, destroying my own body just to please him.

All my compromises, all my sacrifices... they made me look like an absolute, pathetic joke. A colossal, laughable fool!

My husband was spending the night in a luxury hotel with his white moonlight. His subordinates treated me like dirt. And the brother I cherished more than my own life was lying in the ICU, dying because of my failed, toxic marriage.

Tears spilled over, hot and bitter, smashing against the back of my hand. My inner wolf, who had whimpered for her mate for three years, suddenly went dead silent. The bond didn't snap, but the soul tethered to it died.

I wiped my face fiercely. When I looked up, the desperate pleading in my eyes was gone, replaced by a chilling, venomous clarity.

So what if he saved me once years ago? Three years of my youth, my dignity, and my brother's near-death were more than enough to repay that debt.

I wasn't going to live in this hell for another second.

I opened my contacts, found my best friend Chloe's number, and sent a single text: [I need $200k for Emmett's surgery. Now.]

Less than a minute later, my phone pinged. The money was in my account. Followed by a text: [Done. Whoever hurt you, I'll help you bury them.]

I stood up, my spine straight. It was time to end this.