Contract Marriage To The Alpha King

DAMIAN’S POV

The moment I stepped into the grand hall of the Blackwood estate, I knew this conversation would end in bloodshed—or at least a broken piece of furniture.

Across from me sat my grandmother, Eleanor Blackwood—the matriarch of our pack, the true Alpha in every way but name. She may have been old, but her presence commanded respect, her silver hair a crown that marked decades of ruthless rule.

And right now, she was trying to control me.

“I’m not mating,” I stated firmly, swirling the whiskey in my glass.

She sighed, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “Oh, but you will.”

I leaned back in my chair, my wolf growling just beneath the surface. “Why? So I can be tied to some weak, gold-digging omega? Spare me the headache.”

Her lips curled in amusement. “You’re such a fool, Damian. This isn’t about love. It’s about the Legacy you have to carry like your father and grandfather. You have until the next full moon to find a mate, or—”

“Or what?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

Her smirk disappeared. “Or I will strip you of your Alpha title and hand it over to someone who understands responsibility.”

A deep growl rumbled in my chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Her gaze remained cold. Unshaken. “I built this pack from the ground up, Damian. You are just a piece of it. A replaceable one might I add.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “So that’s it? Blackmail me into mating?”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh no, dear. It’s simply…an ultimatum.”

I gritted my teeth. “I hate omegas. Why can't it be She-Alphas.”

She chuckled, standing gracefully. “I don’t care if you hate them or worship them. You will mate to a omega. And you will do it before the full moon. And about female Alphas. Well, there can only be one female Alpha in the family at one time. So, since I'm already here, your only choice is an Omega."

With that, she turned, leaving behind only the scent of her authority and the weight of her ultimatum.

The whiskey burned my throat, but it wasn’t enough.

I needed more.

A mate. The very thought made my skin crawl.

I slammed my empty glass onto the bar, signaling the bartender for another.

How the hell was I supposed to find a Omega woman in a week?

Female Omegas are pretty rare since they're a minority and nobody wants them.

Reaching for my phone, I scrolled through my contacts. My vision was slightly blurred, my wolf restless beneath my skin.

I needed my Beta. My assistant. Someone to handle this mess.

Without thinking, I hit dial.

The moment the call connected, I didn’t give the person a chance to speak.

“Find a girl for me,” I growled into the phone. “I don’t care who she is. I can’t wait anymore.”

A stunned silence.

Then a sharp inhale.

“W-What?!” A very familiar voice stammered.

Something felt…off. My Beta never stuttered.

I frowned, rubbing my temple. “I don’t have time for games. Just find me an omega. Any omega. I don’t give a damn who she is.”

Without waiting for a response, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the table.

I poured myself another drink.

Next day the moment I stepped into the pack headquarters, the air shifted. Wolves straightened, their gazes lowering in respect.

"Good morning, Alpha."

I barely acknowledged them, my mind still fogged from last night’s alcohol and my grandmother’s damn ultimatum.

One week. A mate. Or everything I built would be taken from me.

Pathetic.

I was about to walk past when something—or rather, someone—caught my attention.

Ava.

She stood by her desk, clutching a stack of files. But what stopped me wasn’t the way she stiffened under my gaze.

It was her scent.

Salty. Bitter.

Tears.

The moment our eyes met, she wiped at her red-rimmed eyes, straightening her posture like nothing was wrong.

"Good morning, Alpha." Her voice was steady, but I wasn’t stupid.

I scoffed. “Pathetic.”

I didn’t know if I meant her—or myself.

Without another glance, I strode past, pushing open my office door and slamming it shut behind me.

Leaning against the desk, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

My mind was a mess. The whiskey, my grandmother’s warning, the damn call last night—

I pressed the intercom button. “Oliver. In my office. Now.”

Within seconds, my Beta walked in, adjusting his leather jacket. “Yes, Alpha?”

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “Did you find the omega?”

Oliver blinked. “Sir?”

I exhaled sharply. “The omega. The one I told you to get for me last night.”

He looked even more confused. “I… didn’t receive any call from you last night.”

My fingers curled into a fist. “What?”

Oliver shook his head. “You didn’t call me, Alpha.”

A sinking feeling settled in my gut. I grabbed my phone and pulled up my call history.

And there it was.

Ava.

I had called Ava last night.

Cursing under my breath, I locked my phone and tossed it onto my desk.

So that explained why she looked like hell this morning.

I scoffed. That’s her problem. I didn’t have time to deal with her emotions.

Right now, I had bigger things to handle.

I needed an omega. Immediately.

“Forget it,” I told Oliver. “Just do what I pay you for. Find me a mate. Today.”

Oliver hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Understood, Alpha.”

As he turned to leave, I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.

One week. That’s all I had.

And I wasn’t about to let my grandmother win.

—

AVA’S POV

The sound of my phone ringing jolted me from my thoughts. I wiped away the last of my tears, straightening myself as best as I could. I couldn't afford to let anyone see me like this, especially not in front of Damian.

I glanced at the screen—Doctor Ruiz.

My heart skipped a beat.

I quickly swiped to answer, my hands trembling slightly. "Hello?" My voice was steadier than I felt, but the pit in my stomach was growing.

"Ms. Ava," Dr. Ruiz's voice was calm, but there was a weight to it that made my breath catch. "I have some news about your brother."

My throat tightened. "How is he? Is he okay?"

There was a long pause, and I knew immediately it wasn’t good.

"I'm afraid his condition is worsening, Ava," the doctor said softly. "The treatment we discussed isn't holding, and without the operation, his chances of survival are… grim."

I could feel my hands shaking, the weight of his words crashing down on me. "How long does he have? Please, tell me there's something we can do."

"I'm so sorry," Dr. Ruiz's voice cracked. "But if we don't perform the surgery soon, it’s likely your brother won’t make it through the week. I know this is hard, but we need you to make a decision. Time is critical."

A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I had no money, no way to pay for the surgery. And now, with no one willing to help, my brother’s life was slipping away.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please do whatever you can. I’ll figure out the money."

"You need to act fast, Ms. Ava," the doctor urged, his voice gentle but firm. "The clock is ticking."

I swallowed hard, trying to hold it together. "I… I understand."

The call ended, and I was left staring at my phone, paralyzed.

I had one week.