My Billionaire Alpha is My Immortal Ex

Chapter 1

Rain had been falling since afternoon, leaving the forest damp beneath a stubborn drizzle. Water clung to the ancient trees at the edge of the woods, dripping from their rain-soaked leaves and turning the dirt road outside the house into thick, clinging mud. Hidden deep within the wilderness stood a small wooden cabin.

There was no family crest carved above its door, no armed guards standing watch, and no towering stone walls like those surrounding the grand estates of werewolf nobles. There was just an old roof, a crooked stone chimney, and two windows glowing warmly against the encroaching darkness. The cabin was far too humble for a man of Darius Grey's ancient bloodline, yet ironically, it was the only place he had ever felt truly at home.

Darius stood beside the bedroom window, his gaze fixed on the pitch-black forest. His white shirt hung open at the collar, revealing the steady rise and fall of his broad chest. His black hair was still damp from his patrol along the clan's borders, droplets of rain clinging stubbornly to the ends.

Behind him, the soft rustle of sheets broke the quiet.

"Stop staring outside."

The gentle voice immediately pulled him from his thoughts, and Darius turned. Patricia was sitting up against the headboard, her long, messy hair spilling over her shoulders. She wore a pale nightgown, slightly wrinkled from the hours they'd spent together beside the fireplace earlier that evening.

A faint smile touched Darius's lips. "Why?"

"Because from here, you look like you're waiting for assassins to breach the tree line."

"Experience has taught me to stay alert."

Patricia snorted, kicking the heavy blanket away from her legs. "Experience has taught you to be way too tense."

Darius left the window, crossing the small room toward the bed. "And you're way too relaxed."

"If I were as tense as you, we'd both die of a heart attack before your clan even bothered trying to kill me."

A low, rich chuckle escaped his throat. At the sound, Patricia's smile immediately brightened. She loved that laugh. Even after nearly two years together, she still felt a little proud whenever she managed to get a genuine reaction out of a man as cold and controlled as Darius.

She reached up, tracing her fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. "That's better."

Darius caught her wrist gently, turning her hand to press a soft kiss against her palm. "What is?"

"Smiling."

His usually piercing golden eyes softened. "I only smile when I'm with you."

Patricia stared at him for a moment before her lips curled into an amused smile. "A line like that is supposed to make me feel special, you know."

"Supposed to?"

"Yes."

"Then why doesn't it?"

"Because you delivered it with a completely deadpan face. You sounded like you were reading an annual tax report."

Darius frowned, genuinely perplexed. "I don't pay taxes."

Patricia burst out laughing, her bright laughter filling the small bedroom. "You really are terrible at jokes."

Darius leaned closer, loosely trapping her 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 offense. "Did you just insult my sense of humor?"

"I'm merely stating a fact."

She shoved playfully at his solid chest. "You're annoying."

Before she could pull away, Darius wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Annoying, yet you're still here."

Patricia looked up into those striking golden eyes. Her teasing smile slowly faded, replaced by something softer and more sincere. "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunately, I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Darius went entirely silent. One look, one simple sentence—that was all it took to tear down the walls he'd spent centuries building. Without another word, he lowered his head. Their kiss was slow and unhurried, saying everything neither of them could put into words.

Outside, the drizzle grew heavier, tapping against the windowpanes like a quiet, rhythmic lullaby. Inside the little cabin, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. There was no Grey Clan looming in the shadows. There were no ancient laws, no deeply rooted hatred between werewolves and humans, and no impending future waiting to tear them apart. There was only them.

When Darius finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with her own. "I love you too," he whispered into the quiet space between them.

Patricia wrinkled her nose affectionately. "Much better."

A few hours later, they lay tangled beneath the heavy blankets. Patricia rested her head against the steady rise and fall of Darius's chest, comforted by the rhythm of his heartbeat. Her fingers traced absent, swirling patterns across his warm skin. For a long while, neither of them spoke, perfectly content in the silence.

"If only our lives were different," she whispered finally into the dark.

Darius kept his gaze fixed on the wooden ceiling. "Different how?"

"If you weren't a werewolf..." She hesitated. "And I wasn't human." A sad, fragile smile touched her lips. "Maybe we could get married."

Darius turned his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "Maybe?"

Patricia looked up, meeting his intense gaze. "What's wrong with maybe?"

"I don't like the word."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "All right, then." She tapped her chin, pretending to think it over. "We will get married."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

One corner of Darius's mouth lifted in a rare, genuine grin. "Tomorrow? That's rather sudden. Are you afraid I'll change my mind?"

"Let's just go with that."

"If that is what you want, we'll do it tomorrow."

Patricia stared at him, the playful light in her eyes slowly fading.

"Darius..."

"Hm?"

"Someday, they're going to find out."

He didn't need to ask who she meant. The Grey Clan. His family. The rigid, unforgiving elders who believed humans had no place among their kind and considered his relationship with Patricia a disgrace.

Patricia tightened her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. "They'll never accept me. And when they inevitably find out, they'll make you choose."

"They've tried that before."

"And?"

"I didn't choose."

She pushed herself up, frowning down at him in confusion. "You didn't?"

Darius shifted, turning fully toward her until their faces were only inches apart. His voice was steady and certain. "I'll correct that."

Patricia held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"I have chosen, Patricia."

"Darius..."

"I'm leaving the clan."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I will leave the Grey Clan."

"Are you insane?" Patricia whispered, panic edging into her voice. "You can't just walk away from them."

"I can."

"You're their heir."

"I never asked to be born an heir," his voice hardened, turning sharp and cold.

"But you'll lose your family. You'll lose everything you've ever known."

Darius reached for her trembling hands and gently enclosed them between his palms. "If they force me to choose between my bloodline and you..." He looked directly into her eyes. "I will always choose you."

Tears gathered in Patricia's eyes. "You'll lose everything," she choked out.

Darius shook his head slowly, reaching up to press a lingering, reverent kiss against her forehead. "No." His voice softened. "I'll still have you."

That was when Patricia finally broke. She collapsed into his arms and wept, overwhelmed by relief. For the first time since they had met, she allowed herself to believe that they might actually have a future together.

Darius stroked her hair as she clung to him. "I'll always be with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." He pulled her tighter against his chest. "I swear."

A few hours before dawn, Darius was dressed in his hunting gear, ready to leave. The morning air seeping through the cracks of the cabin was bitterly cold, yet Patricia stood in the doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You really don't have to go hunting this morning," she murmured.

"I promised I'd be back before sunrise."

"You said that yesterday." Patricia watched as Darius reached for his heavy coat. "You didn't come home until mid-morning."

He chuckled softly. "My target ran too fast."

"Lame excuse." Patricia stepped closer, rising onto her toes to straighten his collar, smoothing the fabric against his broad shoulders. "Don't go too deep into the woods."

"I won't."

"And don't go looking for trouble."

Darius raised a dark eyebrow. "I'm hunting wild animals, Patricia."

"Exactly. That is why I have to remind you."

He leaned down, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

He turned to leave, but Patricia caught his arm, her grip suddenly tight. "Darius?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

A warm smile spread across his usually stoic face. "I love you too."

He pulled the heavy door open, letting a rush of cold wind into the cabin. Darius stepped into the morning mist. Patricia remained in the doorway, watching his broad back fade until the towering pine trees finally swallowed him from sight. Only then did she retreat inside and latch the heavy wooden door.

Neither of them knew that it would be the last time Patricia ever smiled at him.

And neither of them knew that Darius would never see her alive again.