Queen’s Strike-back

“Sign them, Seraphina.” Damon’s voice was low and commanding, but to her ears, it echoed like a death sentence. The luxurious study smelled of old leather, brandy, and betrayal. He had poured himself a drink. She hadn't touched hers. On the desk between them sat a crisp stack of divorce papers. Her name—Seraphina Drake—typed in bold, as if mocking her. She didn’t blink. “You want to end our bond because of her? An omega?” Damon laughed. The sound was cold, hollow. “She gives me peace. You— You're exhausting.” Her lip curled. “Peace? Or submission?” He didn’t answer. She stood. The silence between them was sharp as broken glass. She picked up the pen—not to sign, but to stab it into the wood with a snap. “Then you’re free,” she said. “But so am I.” Damon didn’t stop her as she walked away. But he would remember this moment. Three months later. The courtroom was packed. Cameras flashed as Seraphina Drake—now CEO of her own rising law firm—stepped out in heels sharp enough to kill and a blood-red suit tailored to her vengeance. Damon stood by the car, clutching a bouquet like a fool. “Wait, Sera,” he murmured. “Can we talk?” Before she could answer, a voice cut in like velvet steel. “She has better things to do, Mr. Ashridge.” Kael Raventhorn stepped beside her, sunglasses hiding his unreadable gaze. He didn’t touch her, but his presence alone made Damon flinch. “Do I know you?” Damon said. Kael smirked. “You will. Soon.” As the car door shut behind them, Seraphina didn’t look back. Her voice was calm. “You enjoy making my ex squirm?” Kael looked over, slow and dangerous. “I enjoy watching you rise.” He took her crown. Now she’s building a kingdom. And this time, four Alphas are already at the gate—ready to kneel or burn.