My Billionaire Alpha is My Immortal Ex

The rain had been falling since the afternoon, leaving behind a light drizzle that just wouldn't quit. The droplets soaked into the pores of the old trees at the forest's edge, turning the dirt road in front of the house into a thick mud puddle. Amidst the lush siege of the wilderness stood a small wooden cabin. There was no family crest carved arrogantly on its door. No armed guards, let alone towering stone walls typical of a werewolf noble's estate. The house merely took shelter under an old roof with a simple stone chimney, letting the warm glow of the fireplace spill through the two front windows. The place should have been far too lowly for a man with a bloodline like Darius Grey. But ironically, it was exactly here that he found a happiness the grandeur of his clan's castle could never offer. Darius stood frozen by the bedroom window, staring into the pitch-black forest. His white shirt was left unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a broad chest that rose and fell with his slow, measured breaths. The tips of his black hair still held the dew and raindrops from his brief patrol along the clan's borders. The rustle of fabric from behind caught his attention. "Stop staring outside," a soft voice chided. Darius turned. Patricia was sitting up against the headboard. Her long, messy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her calm face. The pale nightgown she wore looked a bit rumpled—a remnant of the time they had spent together by the fireplace a few hours ago. The corner of Darius's lips tugged up slightly. "Why?" "Because from here, you look like you're waiting for assassins to ambush us." "Experience has taught me to always be on guard, Patricia." She let out a soft snort, kicking the blanket off her lap. "Experience has taught you to be way too stiff." Darius stepped away from the window, approaching the edge of the bed. "And you're way too relaxed." "If I got all tense like you, we'd both die of a heart attack before your clan even bothered coming to kill me," Patricia replied casually. A low chuckle rumbled from Darius's throat. Hearing that sound, Patricia's smile instantly bloomed. She loved that laugh. Loved it so much. Even after almost two years of living together, she still felt like she'd struck gold every time she managed to make a man as cold as Darius laugh. She reached up, letting her fingers trace his strong jawline. "That's much better." Darius gently caught her wrist and kissed her palm. "What is?" "Smiling." Darius's gaze, usually as sharp as a knife, softened. "I can only smile when I'm with you." Patricia paused, soaking in the words before an amused smile ruined the mood. "A line like that is supposed to make me feel special, you know." "Supposed to?" "Yeah." "Then why doesn't it?" "Because you said it with a deadpan face, like you're reporting an annual tax audit." Darius frowned. "I don't even do taxes." Patricia burst into bright, crisp laughter that filled the room. "You really suck at jokes, Darius." Darius leaned in, caging Patricia between his arms. "I understand jokes." "Oh, really?" "I'm just not interested in laughing at ones that aren't funny." Patricia narrowed her eyes in mock disbelief. "Did you just insult my sense of humor?" "I'm just stating facts." Patricia shoved his chest playfully. "You're annoying." Before she could pull away, Darius's strong arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "Annoying, but you're still here." Patricia looked deep into his golden eyes. Her smile slowly faded, replaced by genuine tenderness. "Unfortunately, yes." "Unfortunately?" "Unfortunately, I'm way too in love with you." Darius went quiet. Patricia always had that kind of magic. With just one look and a simple sentence, this woman could tear down the walls Darius had built over decades. Without another word, he lowered his head. Their kiss that night was slow and deep. No rush. Patricia's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, trailing down to his shoulders, pulling him even closer. Outside, the drizzle poured harder, but inside this room, the world shrank until it was just the two of them. Darius pulled back for a breath, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you too," he whispered hoarsely. Patricia crinkled her nose. "That's a much better response." The night deepened, and the patter of rain turned into a lullaby. For a few precious hours, there was no looming burden of the clan, no rigid laws forbidding their love, no threat of bloodshed. There was only Darius and Patricia. When they finally lay side by side under the warmth of the blanket, Patricia rested her head on Darius's broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. Her fingers traced abstract patterns on his skin. "If only our lives were different..." she murmured, breaking the silence. Darius stared at the wooden ceiling above. "Different how?" "If you weren't a werewolf and I weren't human." Patricia smiled bitterly. "Maybe we could get married." Darius turned to look at the top of her head. "Maybe?" She looked up at him. "Why?" "I don't like the word 'maybe'." "Alright then." Patricia pretended to think hard. "We will get married." "When?" Darius challenged, holding back a smile. "Tomorrow." He raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow? Too soon. Are you afraid I'll change my mind?" "Let's just go with that." "If that's what you want, we'll do it tomorrow." Patricia stared intently at his face. The playful glint in her eyes slowly died out, replaced by the shadows of fear she had been burying for so long. "Darius..." "Hm?" "Someday, they're going to find out." Darius knew exactly who 'they' were. The Grey Clan. His family. The conservative elders who had always seen humans in their territory as a disgrace and a threat. Patricia sighed deeply, tightening her embrace. "They'll never accept me. And in the end, they're going to force you to choose." "They've tried that before," Darius replied calmly. "And?" "And I haven't chosen." Patricia pushed herself up slightly, looking at him with a worried frown. "Haven't?" Darius turned to face her. Now, their faces were only inches apart. Their breaths mingled. "Let me correct that. I have chosen, Patricia." She held her breath. "Darius..." "I'm going to leave the clan." Patricia's eyes went wide. "Are you crazy? You can't just walk away from the Grey Clan." "I can." "You're their main heir, Darius!" "I never asked to be born an heir." His voice tightened. "But you'll lose your family. Lose everything." Darius looked deep into her brown eyes, searching for certainty. He reached out, grabbing her cold fingers. "If they force me to choose between them or you... I will always choose you." Tears began to pool in Patricia's eyes. "You'll lose everything," she whispered hoarsely. Darius shook his head slowly, pressing a reverent kiss to her forehead. "No, I won't lose everything. Because I'll still have you." Her defenses crumbled. That night, for the first time, she cried in his arms. Not out of sadness or fear, but relief. For the first time, she dared to hope that they actually had a future together. Stroking her hair gently, Darius whispered, "I will always be with you." "Forever?" "Forever," Darius promised. "I swear." A few hours later, just before dawn broke, Darius was geared up in his hunting clothes. The morning air was bone-chilling, but Patricia stood at the doorway anyway, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the cold. "You really don't have to go hunting this morning," she said. "I promised I'd be back before sunrise." "You said that yesterday, but you didn't come home until mid-morning." Darius chuckled, grabbing his heavy coat. "That's because my target ran too fast yesterday." "Lame excuse," Patricia teased with a soft laugh. She stepped forward, getting on her tiptoes to fix his collar. "Don't go too deep into the woods." "I won't." "And promise me you won't go looking for trouble or picking fights with anyone." He looked at her, amused. "I'm going hunting for wild animals, Patricia." "Which is exactly why I have to remind you." Darius leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right back." As he turned around, Patricia caught his arm for a second. "Darius?" "Yeah?" "I love you." A warm smile touched his lips. "I love you too." He opened the wooden door, letting the icy wind sweep in. Darius stepped out into the morning mist. Patricia stood there, watching his broad back until he was completely swallowed by the shadows of the pine trees. Only then did she close the door, returning the small cabin to its silence. Darius never knew that the smile at the doorway would be the last smile of Patricia's he would ever see. His hunt that morning took much longer than expected. The forest felt off. The air was frozen in an eerie, oppressive silence; there were no nocturnal birds chirping, no rustling of small animals in the bushes. The woods felt like it was holding its breath. Still, his hunting instincts ignored the warning as he tracked the footprints of a massive deer a bit too far north. Until a s***h of orange began tearing through the eastern horizon. The sun was about to rise. Darius abandoned his hunt. Suddenly, his mind was entirely fixed on home. On Patricia waiting for him with a warm cup of tea. On his promise last night. Forever. He started to run. Not as a human in a fur coat anymore, but relying on his primal instincts. In a matter of seconds, his body shifted. His bones snapped and realigned into a new form, his muscles bulged, shredding his clothes. Sharp claws shot out from his fingertips, and a pair of golden eyes glowed brightly, cutting through the fading darkness. A giant black wolf dashed like a shadow of death through the forest. But the moment the silhouette of his wooden house came into view, the wolf's footsteps slowed down, then stopped completely. Something was wrong. The front door was wide open. Its wood creaked in the wind. Darius shifted back to his human form in a flash, ignoring the biting cold on his bare skin. "Patricia?" he called out. No answer. He stepped inside. The living room was a mess. Patricia's favorite rocking chair was overturned, shattered glass littered the floorboards, and the fireplace had long died out, leaving behind cooling ash. Darius froze. His nose picked up a scent that was terribly wrong. Blood. The metallic stench of blood filled every corner of the room. Patricia's blood. Panic slammed into his consciousness. Darius rushed the half-open bedroom door. And right then, his world ended. Patricia lay lifeless on the floor. Her pale nightgown was now stained deep red, sticky with drying blood. Her long messy hair covered part of her porcelain face. Darius couldn't move. He forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink. "Patricia...?" The answering silence was deafening. With dragging steps that barely made a sound, Darius approached her. He fell to his knees, hitting the floorboards hard. His trembling large hands reached out, touching her cheek. Cold. The warmth he had kissed just hours ago had completely evaporated. "No. No, no..." Darius pulled her rigid body into his arms. "Patricia, please." No heartbeat. "Wake up." His voice began to break, morphing into a desperate whimper. "You have to wake up. You promised me..." He frantically pressed his palm against the gaping wound on her chest, as if sheer physical force could plug death itself and return her soul. Tears streamed down his dirt-streaked face. Amidst his broken sobs, Darius's nose caught something else. Something hidden beneath the heavy metallic scent of blood. He stopped mourning. He sniffed the air slowly. Once. Twice. His eyes went wide. The scent wasn't a trail from a wild animal, nor a human. It was the scent of other werewolves. Darius lifted his head slowly, scanning the room with his predatory instinct. The smell was familiar. Too familiar. The signature scent of the Grey Clan. The trail of the odor lingered on the floor, stuck to the doorknob, on the remains of Patricia's gown, and mixed with the blood now coating his hands. Darius's eyes flashed gold, before slowly dimming and turning into a glowing, blood-red of pure hatred. The veins in his neck bulged. The face that had just been filled with despair now turned to stone, stripped of all human emotion. "They came here," he hissed to the void. His hands clenched so tight that his nails elongated into claws, piercing his own palms. "They found you... and they killed you." Darius squeezed his eyes shut. Patricia's crisp laughter from last night echoed in his mind. The warmth of her skin. Her soft voice asking for a promise. Forever? Forever. When Darius opened his eyes, the man who loved Patricia had died with her on those floorboards. In his place, something much darker, more ancient, and far more lethal had taken over his body and soul. With what gentleness he had left, he lifted Patricia's body and laid her on the bed. He pulled the blanket up to cover the horrific wounds on her body, then tucked away the stray hairs covering her beautiful face. Darius leaned down, kissing that ice-cold forehead for the last time. "Wait for me, my love. I'll be back." Darius stood up. He walked slowly out of the house. On the eastern horizon, the sun began to crawl up, painting the sky in a terrifying blood-red hue. Darius stopped in the middle of the yard, taking a deep breath. The scent trail of the Grey Clan pointed sharply north. Toward the castle. Darius stared into the dark woods. And he began to run. No one in the main castle of the Grey Clan realized that the death of a lowly human that night wasn't the end of their problems. It was the tolling bell of their destruction. The sentries guarding the first gate didn't even have time to shout a warning. There was only a blur of a massive black shadow. In the blink of an eye, the first guard's body was torn apart and dropped. Followed by the second. Then the third. Blood soaked the stone gates before the warning sirens finally wailed, shattering the morning peace. The wolf knights of the Grey Clan poured out of their barracks and watchtowers. "Intruder!" "Who dares attack us?!" "Defensive formation! Attack!" But their footsteps halted the moment they saw the figure standing in the middle of the stone courtyard. Darius. His bare upper body was now drenched in blood—whether his enemy's or his own. His eyes glowed a bright crimson, radiating an absolute, unstoppable dominance. He carried no steel weapons. To him, weapons were no longer needed. A guard captain took a trembling step forward. "Lord... Lord Darius?!" Darius lifted his face. His voice was deadpan, echoing with an aura that crushed the lungs of anyone who heard it. "Where is my father?" Silence. No one dared to open their mouth. "Darius! Calm down, listen to us first—" "I asked," Darius cut in, his tone ice-cold, "Where is my father?" The guards slowly backed away, parting a path as the sound of heavy footsteps came down the main castle stairs. "My son." Alistair Grey, the Alpha leader of the clan, emerged from behind a stone pillar. His old face was pale but trying to maintain authority. Behind him, a line of clan elders stood with tense faces. Darius stared unblinking at the man who shared his blood. "Why?" Alistair sighed, looking at his son with a hypocritical gaze full of regret. "She was just a human, Darius." Darius laughed. A short, hollow, and terrifying laugh. "So... that was your only reason?" "She jeopardized the clan's secrecy and future! Her presence weakened your position as heir." Alistair raised his voice. "We only did what had to be done for the survival of our kind." "I see," Darius muttered, nodding slowly. "You killed her." Alistair raised a hand in a pacifying gesture. "My boy, come to your senses. Don't do something foolish." Darius's red eyes swept across the courtyard. Hundreds of clan members now surrounded him. Uncles, cousins, childhood friends, the people who trained him to fight. The people he once considered home. Now, in his eyes, they were nothing more than a pack of thieves who had stolen his only reason to live. Darius bowed his head, letting his wet bangs cover his eyes. "I already lost half my soul tonight..." His voice trembled, holding back an explosive rage. He looked up, glaring at his father and the elders with a dense murderous intent. "Don't make me lose my sanity." A panicked elder shrieked, "Kill the traitor! Attack!" Hundreds of wolves lunged all at once from every direction. And in that moment, Darius decided to stop being human. A blast of Moonfire erupted from his body like a massive shockwave. The impact of his aura pulverized the cobblestones. Dozens of werewolves were thrown back, falling to their knees and coughing up blood before they could even touch him. The thick castle walls cracked, glass windows shattered into oblivion. The dawn sky responded with a deafening roar of thunder. Darius walked forward. There were no masterful military formations. No battle strategies. This wasn't a fight for the throne; it was a one-sided slaughter. There was just one man. One Alpha who had lost everything. And a giant clan that had to pay in full for every single teardrop of Patricia's with their blood. That dawn, the history of the Grey Clan was ended by the hands of its own heir. When the last of the flames devouring the castle began to die down, Darius stood alone amidst a sea of corpses. The air smelled of burnt flesh and metallic blood. There was no look of victory on his face. No satisfaction or relief. Vengeance had been served, yet the hole in his chest gaped ever wider, filled with a soul-freezing emptiness. He looked down, staring at his shaking hands. The same hands that had gently stroked Patricia's face hours ago, promising to protect her, were now painted with the blood of his father and his own family. His legs gave out. He collapsed, falling to his knees in a pool of blood. For the first time in his five hundred years of life, the stoic man shed a tear. He roared, begging the god of death to come quickly and take him to his lover. But the death he waited for never came. Instead, a raspy voice spoke from behind a pile of ruined stone pillars. "So you beg for death after destroying everything, Darius Grey?" Darius turned with what little strength he had left. One of the oldest clan elders—the sole survivor of the m******e—crawled out of the rubble with half his body ruined. "Yes," Darius answered softly. "Kill me." The elder stared at him with a sickening sneer of pity. Blood dribbled from his lips. "What a shame... Death is a luxury too easy for a traitor like you." Darius looked at the old man with zero interest. But then, the elder raised the stump of his left arm into the air, muttering an ancient incantation in a forgotten tongue. The air around them suddenly froze. A dark magic crest glowed beneath Darius's feet. Black shadows squirmed like thousands of leeches, creeping up and wrapping around the Alpha's ankles. "You have stripped your own race of their lives." The elder's voice echoed as if spoken by a thousand demons. "So nature will punish you... with life." Darius's eyes went wide. "What curse did you just cast?!" The elder locked eyes with him right as his life slipped away. "I gave you what you fear most, Darius. A fitting punishment." The black shadows swallowed Darius completely, seeping into his veins and chaining his soul. "Endless immortality." Darius's agonizing scream ripped through the gray morning sky. That day, a man who only had one simple dream—to love a human woman—was condemned to the cruelest punishment in the world. He was cursed to live forever. Without his family. Without his honor. And the most torturous part of all... without the woman he loved. At the exact same time, deep in the silent woods, the small wooden cabin still stood tall, braving the storm. Harboring one cold bed, one fireplace reduced to ash, and a promise they would never be able to keep. Forever.