All Chapters of Flash marriage with the Alpha King: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Anita's POVA few days after the battles from Amara and Evelyn, my stepmother, the crisp morning air carried the faint aroma of roasted coffee beans as I walked down the street. It was one of those rare mornings when I felt a flicker of normalcy, a moment where I could forget about the weight of being Hades’s mate—or soon-to-be ex-mate, as the pack rumors now called it.Beside me was Zach, my best friend Martha’s younger brother. Zach was as lively and energetic as ever, and he’d insisted on tagging along for my coffee run. “You know, Anita,” Zach said, a mischievous grin playing on his face, “if you keep walking so fast, people might think you’re trying to ditch me.”I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “If you hadn’t taken so long picking out which scarf to wear, we wouldn’t be in such a hurry, Zach.”He laughed, the sound lighthearted and infectious. “Hey, fashion is important! Besides, I needed to look good in case I bumped into someone interesting.”We both laughed as we turned t

Hades’s POVThe clock on the wall ticked loudly, the sound growing louder and more grating with every passing second. It felt as though time itself was mocking me, dragging out this unbearable wait. I stood in the center of the meeting room, arms crossed tightly over my chest, my jaw clenched to the point of aching. The air in the room was stifling, thick with unspoken questions, and the administrative staff hovered nervously near the corner, casting wary glances in my direction before quickly looking away. “Have they called her yet?” I demanded, my voice sharp and cutting through the silence like a blade.Jerry flinched at the sound of my voice, his wide eyes darting toward me as though he expected to be reprimanded just for breathing too loudly. He nodded quickly. “Yes, Alpha. We’re just waiting for her to arrive.”I let out a frustrated growl, pacing to the far end of the room. The floor felt cold beneath my boots, a sensation that somehow grounded me, if only slightly. Damian, wh

Anita’s POVA sharp glint in Evelyn’s eyes betrayed her guarded mind, even though her face remained composed. Amara perched uncomfortably on the edge of her seat beside her mother, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap as though they were charged with electricity. I stood a few feet away, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “Do you have any evidence?” I asked, my voice steady but carrying an edge sharp enough to draw blood. My tone-deliberately low. Evelyn raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a condescending smile. “Evidence?” she repeated, her tone mocking, as though I’d asked her to produce the moon itself. “Evidence is such a tricky thing, Anita. It can be manufactured, distorted, or conveniently misplaced. Why should I need it to tell you what I know?”“That’s not good enough,” I snapped, my voice rising slightly as anger bubbled up. “You want me to believe your story—your vague accusations—about my father’s death, but you can’t even p

Anita’s POVI could here the noise from the background, the angry voices from people on the other end of the call, it was abuzz with tension. The irritation in Jerry’s voice was impossible to miss, and it instantly grated on my nerves. “Miss Anita,” Jerry’s voice started sharply, devoid of his usual professional tone, “this is the second time you’ve delayed today. Do you even care about finalizing this process?”I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to summon some semblance of patience. “Jerry, I’ve told you already. I’m not refusing to go through with the divorce. I simply have more pressing matters to handle at the moment.”“More pressing matters?” Jerry repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. “More pressing than putting an end to this contract? This has gone on long enough, Miss Anita. You keep making excuses, but you’re not fooling anyone.”I clenched my jaw, my grip on the phone tightening. “I’m not making excuses. I just—”“You just what?” Jerry cut me off,

Anita’s POVThe files in my hands felt heavier than they should have, the seal of the Werewolf Court embossed in the top corner. My fingers brushed over the paper's embossed surface, tracing the lines as if doing so would help me think. My eyes skimmed the document for what felt like the hundredth time, lingering on the words that seemed to mock my impatience: "Seven-day waiting period before the evidence is reviewed." Seven days. Seven endless, grueling days. I exhaled deeply, frustration bubbling beneath the surface like a cauldron on the verge of boiling over. “Seven days,” I muttered under my breath, pacing the room with the notice still clutched in my hands. “Seven whole days before they even look at the evidence. What are they waiting for? A full moon?” The bitterness in my tone surprised even me. My heels clicked sharply against the wooden floor as I paced back and forth, unable to contain the restless energy brewing inside me. My fingers tightened around the paper, the edges