Divoced 7 Times

For seven years, I destroyed myself trying to give my mate an heir. Thirty-six pregnancies. Thirty-six miscarriages. Thirty-six tiny lives were buried while my husband held me in his arms and promised me it wasn’t my fault. I believed Alpha Cassian Blackthorne loved me. I believed the Moon Goddess had blessed our bond. I believed every painful miscarriage was a tragedy we suffered together. Until the day I discovered the horrifying truth; Cassian never wanted my children. For seven years, the man I loved has been secretly poisoning me with wolfsbane, slowly destroying both my body and my wolf as punishment for the death of the woman he truly loved. And when I finally become pregnant again, Cassian murders both me and our unborn child without hesitation. Broken and full of regret, I died praying for one thing only: a second chance never to love Cassian again. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back seven years in the past on the night everything began. But this time, something is different: Cassian has returned, too, and, unlike before, he chooses to save his first love and abandon me to die in her place. Fine. This time, I will no longer beg for his love. I will reject the mate bond, protect my family from the tragedy waiting ahead, and rewrite my fate completely while taking my revenge. But the more I pull away, the more the cold Alpha who once destroyed me begins to look at me with emotions I have never seen before and suddenly he's scared of losing me forever.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

I married the same man nine times. And each time, he left me for his first love, divorcing me nine times as well. The first time we parted, I lost control and threw all his belongings out the door. By the fourth divorce, I begged him to leave his luggage behind out of fear he might never return. The eighth time, I had learned to obediently pack his things, careful not to upset him. My breakdowns, my pleas, and my obedience always brought him back to me. Each time, he honored his promises. And each time, we divorced again, just like before. Until this time. This time, I packed my own things and left without telling him. A month from now, I will be gone for good.

Charlotte Crowe's childhood sweetheart started acting up again, which meant she was ready to divorce me again. By then, I had gone numb. I looked at her calmly and said, "This will be the eighth time." Guilt crossed her face as she looked at me, her eyes full of helplessness and pleading. "Gregory, I don't have a choice. You know Victor talks about killing himself every day. I can't just ignore him. But don't worry. As soon as I calm Victor down, we'll get married again." I said nothing. She had said the same thing to me more times than I could count. We got married eight times and got divorced eight times. Even the courthouse staff knew me by now. Behind my back, they said we practically kept the divorce court in business. With the freshly issued divorce papers in my hand, a staff member behind me asked curiously, "So when are you coming back for your next remarriage?" I gave a faint shake of my head. "There won't be a next time."

After losing a bet to her adopted younger brother, Peter Conroy, my wife, Ruth Davis, divorced me for the ninth time. I had told her then that if we remarried for a tenth time and divorced again, I would marry someone else. She only laughed and said, “Will, you even donated part of your liver to me. How could you possibly marry anyone else? Besides, apart from me, who would want to marry a broke loser like you?” On the day of our tenth remarriage press conference, Peter left her a key to a beach house and made a bet with her. If she could find him in three hours, he would stay and wish us a lifetime of happiness. The moment Ruth saw the key, her expression turned hesitant. She tore up the remarriage statement and ran off without hesitation. Three hours later, Peter posted a photo on social media. They were lying on a bed in the beach house and admiring the ocean view. I read the caption. [If someone really cares about you, they will cross mountains and seas just to find you.] Without telling Ruth, I withdrew the remarriage application and made a call I had not made in a very long time. “Julienne, is your proposal from back then still valid?” Her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement. “For you, it’ll always be valid.”

The day I discovered I was carrying octuplets, I worried myself sick over how I would make ends meet. Then, my husband, the Lord Regent, had his divorce decree delivered to my door. "10,000 gold pieces in exchange for your departure from the capital." I stared at it for a moment, then broke into the widest grin of my life. "Well, this certainly solves my problem!" I tucked the gold pieces and the divorce papers into my cloak, unable to keep the smile off my face. I walked out of the capital without so much as a backward glance. Word later spread through every high society circle that the ever-composed Lord Regent had gone mad, turning the kingdom inside out to find the ex-wife who had left with his fortune and eight unborn children.