Alpha Romanov

Valeria:

The contract had been signed before I met Alpha Nikolai Romanov.

My name sat at the bottom of the final page in black ink beneath terms that reduced the next year of my life to numbered obligations.

I would remain in Romanov territory for twelve months. I would marry Nikolai Romanov. I would carry his heir if my body allowed it and when the year ended, the Morozov name would be restored, my mother would receive the promised money, and I would be free to leave.

Simple. That was what the council called it.

Nothing about standing in the Romanov council chamber felt simple.

The room swallowed sound. Stone walls drank the heat from the fire and left a cold that settled in my bones. People watched me as if they were weighing me on a scale. I did not belong. Everyone’s eyes said so.

I held the contract to my chest like a shield. Council members whispered. Guards stood like statues along the walls. Two neighboring Alphas sat at the long table, their presence a quiet threat. At the far end of the room, in a dark chair, sat Nikolai Romanov.

Stories had preceded him. Every wolf in the Northern Territories had a story. Alpha Romanov was ruthless, cold and unchallengeable. The Romanovs had ruled the North for generations; Nikolai was the last pure-blooded male of the line.

I had expected a harsher face. Instead, he looked like someone fate had sculpted slowly and without mercy: dark hair, broad shoulders in a black suit, a jaw that never relaxed, and eyes so pale they read like silver.

I hated that I noticed any of it.

“Valeria Morozova.” The older councilman beside me cleared his throat. I turned to face the man, looking down at my feet as I did.

“Your agreement has been reviewed and accepted by the Romanov council. Alpha Romanov has approved the terms.”

My fingers tightened on the folder. “I am well aware.”

He gave me the look people give when they expect gratitude. I had signed because my mother needed protection, because our name had become something people spat, because this contract promised to restore what had been taken from us, not because I dreamed of marrying Nikolai Romanov.

The longer he stared, the more my skin prickled. Then something tore through my chest like a thread being pulled taut.

I inhaled and pressed my hand to my ribs. For a second I thought I might faint. Then his scent hit me: pine and smoke and something warm and dark beneath it. My body froze. Heat crawled along my skin. My heart hammered in my ears.

From somewhere inside me, a place that had been silent my whole life, came one impossible word.

Mate.

My breath snagged. No. That was impossible… I had no wolf, everyone knew it. I had been sixteen when the healers stopped pretending there was hope. But I never shifted, nor did I hear another presence, never felt the things wolves spoke of when they described their other half.

I was wolfless. A defect. That was part of why the Romanov council had chosen me because no wolf meant no powerful family bond, no Luna to interfere with politics. I was convenient. Disposable.

The pull came again, stronger. I looked at Nikolai. His eyes were no longer pale. They were silver. Full, bright silver.

Conversation around us stuttered and stopped. Nikolai’s fingers tightened on the arm of his chair. He knew. The realization hit me so hard I almost laughed at the cruelty of it. Of all the men fate could have given me, it chose the one I had just signed a contract to marry, the man who wanted a temporary wife, the man who needed an heir, the man I would leave after one year.

A low growl rolled through the room from him. Several wolves bowed their heads. The guard nearest me stepped back. My legs forgot how to move.

Nikolai rose. The chamber narrowed to the space between us. He descended the steps with the slow certainty of someone who never wasted motion. My skin tightened with every step. The pull inside my chest coiled like a spring. Part of me wanted him closer; the rest of me remembered why I was there.

He stopped a few feet away. Up close, he was more dangerous. Tall enough that I tilted my chin to meet his eyes. His gaze skimmed my face, then dropped to the side of my neck. I felt the heat of his look like a hand.

The councilman behind me murmured something. I didn’t hear it. For the first time in years, something dangerous unfurled inside me: hope. I hated myself for it. I had learned to hide the ache of wanting. I had learned to laugh when girls spoke of finding their mates. I had learned to pretend the empty place inside me didn’t matter.

My lips parted. “Nikolai…”

“Do not call me by my name.” The word cut the air. His jaw tightened.

The hope faltered. “What should I call the man I’m supposed to marry?”

“Alpha Romanov.”

Heat rose to my neck. His coldness stung. “Is that so?”

His nostrils flared. Then he turned his head to the others. “Leave.”

No one moved. His expression darkened. “I said leave.” Power rolled through the room like a tide. Chairs scraped. The guard beside me dropped to one knee. Another wolf bowed, and everyone left, except me…

One older man lingered near the table. “Alpha Romanov, if she is what I think she is…”

“Viktor.” The warning in Nikolai’s voice stopped him. “We will discuss this later.”

Viktor glanced at me once more and left. The doors closed. Silence settled like dust.

I clutched the contract until the edges bit into my palms. “You felt it, too.”

“Yes.” His voice was flat. My heartbeat jumped. The answer should have been relief. Instead, his face made my stomach twist. He looked at me like finding me had been a mistake.

“We’re mates.” I said, studying his expression.

His jaw clenched. “Yes.”

A small, foolish hope rose. Then he said my full name in a way that made the air colder. “I, Nikolai Romanov, Alpha of the Northern Territories, reject you as my mate.”

The words hung between us like a blade. I waited for him to explain. He didn’t. A dull ache spread under my ribs. I tightened my grip until the folder creased.

“You’re rejecting me and yet I am supposed to be your wife?” I asked, finding this whole situation more amusing than I should.

“Because me rejecting you does not change your role to my empire.” He said coldly.

A bitter laugh escaped me. He watched me, expression unreadable. “Do you find this amusing?”

“No.” I met his silver gaze. “I just think fate has a terrible sense of humor.”

His jaw hardened. The ache deepened. I forced my breath steady. Then I lifted my chin as I swallowed the pain that tightened my throat. “But I accept your rejection, Alpha Nikolai Romanov.”