What She Needs

“Divorce?”

Victor Quinn’s ears rang at the word. His wolf snapped to attention inside him, fur bristling, claws digging into the walls of his chest. His head jerked toward Clara Hayes, searching her face for hesitation. There was none.

“Yes,” Clara said, her voice low but sharp, every syllable carrying venom.

 “Stop playing dumb. I won’t repeat myself again.”

Her hands shook slightly, but she masked it with clenched fists. She refused to show weakness before this man—the same man who had betrayed her since she was seven months pregnant, the same Alpha who had sworn to protect her, only to shred her heart one affair at a time.

Still, when she shoved the papers at him, her wolf whimpered. The bond between them trembled violently, as though the Goddess herself grieved.

Victor blinked, frowning as he skimmed the pages. His stomach dropped. The signatures, the seals—it was real. This wasn’t a bluff. His Luna was prepared to leave him. 

The idea struck harder than claws to the chest. 

No. Never. Divorce wasn’t even in his vocabulary. He was Alpha. He didn’t lose things—least of all his mate.

He threw the papers back at her chest. “Tsk. This is about money, isn’t it? You’re angry I slept with someone else, so you want leverage. Just buy yourself something nice. A new bag, a car, raid every damn store in the mall if you want. Hermes, Gucci—I don’t care. Just stop this nonsense.”

His voice grew louder, more commanding.

 “Because if this is a joke, Clara Quinn, I’m not laughing.”

“I am not Clara Quinn anymore, you arrogant bastard.” 

Her eyes flashed with wolf-light, her power sparking in the air. She snatched the papers back from his hand and jabbed her finger at the bottom line. 

“Look at the name. Clara Hayes. My name. My life. No more ties to you.”

Victor squinted, his head still riling from the night before. His eyes landed on the looping letters of her maiden name. Clara Hayes. 

Something primal twisted inside him. His wolf howled in denial, raking his insides raw.

“This is insane,” he muttered, teeth gritted. “I’m not in good shape right now. You’re talking crazy.” He clutched his temples, fighting the migraine that pulsed harder with every word she spoke.

 “I gave you everything. A roof, money, stability. What else do you need?”

Clara pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief. The truth finally sank in—he didn’t understand. 

Twelve years together, and he still measured love in banknotes and possessions.

Her chest heaved as she forced the words past her clenched jaw. “Do you even hear yourself, Victor? For twelve years I stood by you while you lived like a king. I raised Amelia while you disappeared for months, parading Charlotte around like some badge of honor. You didn’t just betray me—you betrayed your daughter. And you think throwing money at us is enough?”

“Of course it is. You’re my Luna. And your job is to breed more children to increase our pack number. That’s your sole purpose. It’s something worth living and dying for.”

“What?!” Clara laughed in pain. 

Of all the things Victor said tonight, this had to be the most ridiculous one.

“You’re wrong!” Clara said. “I’m not some baby-making machine or a tool to use. Before I became your Luna, I’m Clara, daughter of Hayes. And above all, a woman. So don’t you dare tie down my dignity to this twisted bullshit of yours!”

Victor’s wolf whined at her words, but his pride got the better of him. He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the glasses. 

 “I gave you a stable life, a house, a daughter! Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you really want.”

The dam broke. Clara’s hands slammed against his chest with all the fury she had bottled up.

 “I want a divorce! I want a fucking divorce, you bastard!”

Her strikes landed like soft thuds against his broad chest. She was small, human in strength compared to him, but her fury carried the bite of a Luna unbound.

Victor’s temper flared. He seized her wrists in one hand, squeezing tightly enough to make her gasp. His face loomed inches from hers, his breath hot with anger and gin. His wolf clawed at him to stop, but his pride surged louder.

“Let me remind you where you came from, Clara.” His voice was cold. 

“You were dirt poor. Nothing. I pulled you out of the gutter, paid your debts, made you my mate. Without me, you’d still be groveling in some diner for tips and begging for scraps.”

Her eyes widened with glistening tears, but she didn’t back down. 

He kept pressing, his arrogance swelling.

“I’m doing you a favor. Sure, I sleep with other women. But did I ever bring them into this house? Did Amelia ever see? Did I stop providing for you? So what else do you need to drop this insanity? Because if you walk away, you’ll have nothing without me.”

Clara’s heart sank. She gazed at the man she had once adored, the one who had promised her forever, the father of her child. She saw nothing but hate and betrayal.

Clara stared at him, her vision blurring with tears. Her wolf whimpered, bleeding to say the final truth while she whispered;

“Love.”

Victor froze.

“What?”

“I need love, Victor Quinn.” Her voice cracked, but her spine straightened. “Not money. Not houses. Not cars. Not empty promises. Love.”

The word rang like a bell in the hollow cavern of his chest. His wolf whimpered again, desperate to close the distance between them. But Victor’s pride locked him in place. He hadn’t heard that word from her in years—hadn’t let himself feel it either.

Clara met his eyes, unblinking, tears trailing down her cheeks.

 “Look at me, Victor. Tell me truthfully—do you still love me? Do you still see me as your rightful mate?”