My Terms

Last time, I signed this without reading a word.

I’d been crying too hard to see the page. Zion pressed a pen into my hand, told me where to sign, and I did it, because I thought if I gave him what he wanted, maybe one day he’d look at me the way he looked at her.

I picked up the agreement and unfolded it.

Zion’s brow lifted. “You’re reading it?”

“Isn’t that what people do before they sign things?”

He didn’t answer.

It was short. Two pages of cold, clean language, like something drafted by a lawyer who’d never been in love.

“Party A, Alpha Zion of Silver Lake, will cover all medical expenses for Selene, mother of Party B, for the duration of the agreement.” I glanced up. “Generous.”

“I’m not a monster.”

You’d be surprised, I thought, and kept reading.

“Party B will perform the role of devoted wife and Luna in all public settings. Party B will make no claims on Party A’s private life, affections, or bed.” My mouth twisted. “Very clear.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Then I reached the line I’d been bracing for.

“Party B will accompany Party A to Dark Moon Pack territory at any time Party A requests.”

The room tilted. Flashes, quick and broken: a long table at Dark Moon. Jessi’s laugh. Zion’s eyes following her across the room while I sat beside him, smiling until my face ached. Dakota’s hand on my throat.

I’d walked into that place at his side so many times in my last life, and every time it cost me a little more.

I set the paper on my knee.

“There’s no end date,” I said.

“It ends when I say it ends.”

“No.” I held out my hand. “Pen.”

He stared at me. “Excuse me?”

“If I’m signing my life away, I’m adding terms.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then he pulled a black fountain pen from his shirt pocket and set it in my palm. His fingers didn’t touch mine. He was careful about that.

I uncapped it and started writing in the margin.

“One,” I said aloud. “My mother is transferred to the Silver Lake healers. Tonight.”

“It’s past midnight.”

“Then your people had better move quickly.” I didn’t look up. “Two. Separate bedrooms.”

He made a sound low in his throat that might have been a laugh. “That one I’ll give you for free.”

“Three. You will never humiliate me in public. Not in front of your pack, not in front of Dark Moon.” I paused. “And not in front of Jessi.”

The room seemed to drop ten degrees. “Careful, Kira.”

“Four. This agreement ends in one year. Not a day longer.”

“And five?”

I hesitated, the pen hovering over the page.

Then I wrote it in small, neat letters.

In the event of Party B’s death, Party A must personally investigate the circumstances.

Zion leaned down to read it, and I felt him go still.

“What is this?”

“A term.”

“Are you planning on dying?”

Not if I can help it. “Just sign it.”

He straightened slowly, and his aura rolled over me again, heavier this time, sharp with irritation. “You seem confused about who’s doing who a favor. I can have this marriage annulled by morning and find another bride by the end of the week.”

“You could,” I agreed. “But you just stood in front of both packs and promised yourself to me. Annul it tonight, and everyone will want to know why. Including Jessi.” I tilted my head. “And then you’d lose your excuse to visit her.”

Silence.

His eyes narrowed to slits of gray. I could see him weighing it. Hating that I was right.

“You need me more than I need you, Alpha,” I said quietly. “So sign.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a heartbeat, I thought he might tear the paper in half.

Then he took the pen from my hand, braced the agreement against the bedpost, and signed in sharp, angry strokes beneath my additions.

He held the pen out without looking at me. “Your turn.”

I took it.

The second my fingers closed around it, the room vanished.

Darkness. A study lit by a single lamp. Rain hammering against tall windows.

Zion sat alone behind a heavy desk, head bowed. In front of him lay this same agreement, its pages creased, as if it had been crushed and smoothed flat again.

As I watched, his hand closed around it. Slowly. His knuckles went white. His shoulders shook once.

Was he furious?

Or was he...

“Kira.”

The vision shattered.

I was back on the bed, gasping. The pen had fallen onto the silk.

Zion was crouched in front of me, gripping my arm hard enough to bruise, his gray eyes locked on my face. For the first time in either of my lives, he looked shaken.

“What just happened to you?”