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Invading Borders

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu
I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.
Modern RevengeDivorceRevengeFemale-centeredDivorce
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I jumped to the next branch, feeling like a flying squirrel rather than an actual werewolf. When my fingers clasped onto the rough texture of bark, my heart calmed down once again. Adrenaline always forced itself into my body even if I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. I really needed to start getting control on that.

Add that to the long list of things to do. On the top of that list was to actually get my powers to work. I knew I had them, being born when my mom was in wolf form but as of late, I was dormant. It was definitely not normal to still be dormant at the age of twenty but what can you do? Underneath me, my pack was running through the woods, their pelts beautifully shining in the moonlight.

Was I jealous? Of course I was jealous.

I was a flying squirrel while my friends, family and… well, people I didn’t like – were able to be vicious, beautiful wolves. I jumped to the next branch, trying to keep my balance. I was a lot better with trees than actually on ground. That was another thing on my bucket list- becoming less clumsy. Which would actually happen if my stupid hands could turn into claws and I could sprout fur.

A howl erupted in my ear. I looked down, seeing the pack stopping, my dad was the one who had howled. He and my mom looked up at me, standing so close to each other you’d instantly know they were mates. Third thing on list by the way – getting a mate.

Like all myths and rules for lycanthrope, we have mates. You are supposed to meet your mate (supposed to because it’s not actually law) by sixteen up until the age of twenty one. I still had time but was still fearful because of the whole not-turning thing. You couldn’t mate with someone if they weren’t a shifter. That’s just how it worked.

I jumped down from the branch, trying to position my fall so I wouldn’t see naked bodies. My pack liked to shift back to human when they took breaks. If I was a wolf, I’d never shift back. Being a wolf would just be so much better… or so I’ve heard. People liked to make you feel even worse about not being a lycanthrope when they could be.

“Hey sweetie” I heard my mom say, enveloping me in a hug. I turned towards her, seeing that she was clothed in the white dress from earlier. Except now it was more like beige, seeing that she had dragged it through the dirt while it was strapped to her leg. Some things never seemed to change. My dad came to stand next to her, putting an arm around her.

“You okay my flower?” he smiled at me, eyeing the scrape I had gotten from one of the stupid branches.

“Dad, I’ve gotten a million of scraps, I’m fine” I smiled, roiling my eyes. He laughed, grabbing me in a fierce dad hug. You know those people who are twice the size of you? My whole pack is that size. The woman are all about a foot taller than me, the men were like skyscrapers.

“Let go!” I laughed, actually enjoying the hug. It made me forget for a moment about my problem. When my parents were wolves, they cuddled me but it wasn’t the same, definitely not the same as a human hug.

When my dad let go, it was by the time the alpha had decided to start moving once again.

“See you soon sweetie, stay save” my mom smiled, kissing my on the head. I nodded, skittering up the tree again.

“Hey! Squirrel girl!” I heard someone yell. I looked down, shooting a glare at Felix. Felix was the biggest asshole that existed. He was one of those that had shifted since he was a baby, he was even born as a wolf. A lot of my pack was like that, but because he was also the future alpha, he got even more applause for that not-at-all-dependent-on-what-type-of-person-he-is skill.

“What!?” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You turn yet?” he asked, knowing that I hadn’t.

“Have you gotten smarter yet? The answers are the same” I smirked, going to go sit down on one of the branches.

Felix rolled his eyes but held his smirk, “I’m going to get you back for that squirrel girl”

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