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Silent Contract Rearing Mates

Silent Contract Rearing Mates

Werewolf
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-02
By:  MogaUpdated just now
Language: English
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Synopsis

Drama

Third-Person POV

Mystery

Protective

Beast

Dominant

Contract Marriage

Superpower

Hate to Love

When Lena Ardent, a once-renowned child psychologist who lost her voice after a tragic accident, receives a mysterious job offer sealed in red wax, she has nothing left to lose. The letter summons her to Veyne Estate, home of the enigmatic billionaire Damien Veyne a man who never speaks and lives under strange, nocturnal rules. Lena signs a contract that promises fortune but demands silence. At first, her role seems simple: be his interpreter, his voice in a world he refuses to face. Yet soon she notices things that defy reason claw marks on marble floors, whispers in the woods, and a wolf that watches her from the treeline. When Lena breaks his one rule and opens the forbidden red book, she discovers Damien’s secret: he is bound by an ancient curse that turns him into a wolf under the Blood Moon. Even more shocking Lena herself appears in a century-old portrait labeled “The Mute Oracle Bonded Mate.” As their bond deepens, the Blood Moon rises, forcing Lena to choose between saving the man she loves or freeing him by destroying herself. When she finally speaks his name for the first time in years, her voice breaks the curse and awakens a love older than time. In the end, silence becomes power, and love becomes the loudest sound of all.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The city never slept, but it did forget her.

Lena Ardent sat beneath the flickering streetlamp, sketchbook balanced on her knees, charcoal dust painting her fingertips like bruises. The wind off the river gnawed at her coat, carrying the faint scent of metal and smoke. Around her, the world moved on cars hissing past puddles, strangers wrapped in noise and purpose.

She had neither.

It had been six years since she last heard her own voice. Six years since the car crash that stole it, along with her confidence. Now, her silence was her armor and her cage.

She made a living sketching faces on the sidewalk, each portrait sold for enough to buy a loaf of bread or a night’s rent in a shared flat. When people asked her name, she smiled and pointed to the small sign beside her drawings:

“Lena Ardent — Art that Speaks Without Words.”

But that night, as the clock neared midnight, the city seemed to hold its breath.

A black car rolled to the curb. Its windows reflected only darkness. From the back seat, a gloved hand emerged holding an envelope sealed in red wax.

Lena froze. No one ever approached her this late.

A voice, smooth and male, spoke through the open window. “Miss Ardent?”

She nodded cautiously.

“The client wishes to make you an offer.”

The hand extended the envelope. She hesitated, then took it. The paper was thick, heavy, perfumed faintly with cedar and smoke. By the time she looked up again, the car was gone.

Lena turned the envelope over in her fingers. Embossed on the wax seal was a crest a crescent moon crossed by two wolves. Beneath it, a single word: “Veyne.”

She tore it open. Inside was a letter written in elegant black ink:

You have been recommended for a confidential position.

Your silence is your greatest qualification.

If you accept, come to Veyne Estate before dawn. Bring nothing but yourself.

Compensation: one million euros, payable upon completion of the contract.

Failure to appear will be taken as a refusal.

At the bottom, instead of a signature, there was a single crimson fingerprint.

Lena’s pulse quickened. It could be a prank or worse. But her rent was three months late, her sketchbook nearly empty, and hope was something she hadn’t tasted in years.

By the time the church bells struck twelve, she was already walking toward the northern hills.

The road wound through a forest that seemed to belong to another century. Pines towered overhead, whispering secrets as the moon slid through their branches. A fine mist clung to the ground, and every shadow felt alive.

When the gates of Veyne Estate appeared, they were taller than any she had seen—iron twisted into the shape of wolves howling at the sky. Beyond them, a single mansion stood in the distance, its windows aglow like lanterns in a sea of black.

Lena pressed the intercom, her gloved hands trembling.

The gate clicked open without a word.

Inside, silence ruled. No servants, no music, only the faint hum of electricity and the distant crackle of a fire. The walls were glass and stone, reflecting the forest and moonlight in endless silver tones.

At the center of the grand hall stood a man.

He was tall easily six foot three with dark hair swept back from a sharp, unreadable face. His suit was black as the shadows, his eyes colder than the snow-laced air. When he moved, it was with the quiet confidence of someone who had never been refused.

Lena froze, instinct screaming that this was the man who had summoned her.

He studied her in silence for a long moment. Then, without speaking, he extended a piece of parchment.

It was a contract.

I, Lena Ardent, agree to serve Damien Veyne in the capacity of personal assistant and interpreter for the duration of three lunar cycles. I will not speak of his condition, his home, or the nature of my employment.

In exchange, I will receive one million euros upon completion.

At the bottom was a space for her signature.

Damien Veyne handed her a fountain pen.

Lena looked up at him, her lips parting as if to ask—but no sound came. Instead, she reached for her notepad and scribbled:

Why me?

Damien took the pen from her hand, his fingers brushing hers electric, burning. He wrote beneath her question in strong, deliberate strokes:

Because you cannot speak and I must not.

Their eyes met. Something ancient moved in that silence recognition, or perhaps danger disguised as destiny.

Lena signed.

The ink glowed faintly for a heartbeat, as if sealing something deeper than paper.

Damien reached into his coat and produced a small silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon. He placed it gently around her neck.

“A mark of contract,” he wrote. “It protects you inside these walls.”

She frowned, scribbling, “From what?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he gestured for her to follow. His movements were precise, controlled, almost too graceful like a predator disguising itself as a man.

They walked down a corridor lined with portraits. Each canvas depicted a different member of the Veyne family men with silver eyes and women whose gazes followed her. At the end of the hall, a grand library opened like the heart of a labyrinth.

“Your quarters are here,” Damien wrote, passing her another note. “You’ll find paper, ink, and a bell. Use them if you need me.”

She nodded, her pulse still quick.

Before leaving, he paused at the doorway. His profile caught the moonlight, sharp and ethereal. Then he looked back, eyes flickering with something not entirely human.

“Welcome to silence, Miss Ardent.”

And with that, he was gone.

Lena stood alone in the echoing room, the contract heavy in her pocket, the pendant cold against her skin. Outside, a wolf howled low and distant, as if marking her arrival.

For the first time in years, she felt her silence wasn’t empty.

It was the beginning of something that had been waiting for her all along.

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10 Chapters
Chapter 1
The city never slept, but it did forget her.Lena Ardent sat beneath the flickering streetlamp, sketchbook balanced on her knees, charcoal dust painting her fingertips like bruises. The wind off the river gnawed at her coat, carrying the faint scent of metal and smoke. Around her, the world moved on cars hissing past puddles, strangers wrapped in noise and purpose.She had neither.It had been six years since she last heard her own voice. Six years since the car crash that stole it, along with her confidence. Now, her silence was her armor and her cage.She made a living sketching faces on the sidewalk, each portrait sold for enough to buy a loaf of bread or a night’s rent in a shared flat. When people asked her name, she smiled and pointed to the small sign beside her drawings:“Lena Ardent — Art that Speaks Without Words.”But that night, as the clock neared midnight, the city seemed to hold its breath.A black car rolled to the curb. Its windows reflected only darkness. From the ba
last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-07
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Chapter 2
The mansion woke in whispers.Lena stirred at dawn to the sound of rain brushing against the glass walls, a rhythmic lullaby over silence. The fire had burned to embers in the library hearth, and pale light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in silver. For a moment, she forgot where she was until her gaze fell upon the silver crescent pendant resting on her collarbone.Last night hadn’t been a dream.The contract was real. The mansion, the man, the silence all of it.She rose, brushing ash from her clothes, and found a note slipped under the door. The handwriting was Damien’s elegant, deliberate, almost carved into the paper:Breakfast. East veranda. 7 a.m.No greeting, no name. Just instruction.She smiled faintly. A man who writes like he commands the moon, she thought.When she found the veranda, it was like stepping into a dream. The forest spread beyond the glass railing, mist curling between the pines. A long table was set for two, yet only one seat was occupied.D
last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-07
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Chapter 3
Silence was no longer peace. It was suspense.Days blurred into nights at Veyne Estate. Lena learned to move like a shadow through its halls, her footsteps swallowed by velvet carpets, her thoughts hidden behind polite notes and professional gestures. Damien rarely appeared before noon, and when he did, his eyes were distant—as if part of him stayed elsewhere, watching from the woods.Each dawn, she’d find traces: muddy prints by the east door, torn fabric caught on the gate, the faint scent of pine and smoke clinging to the air.The staff said nothing.But Lena noticed how they flinched when wolves howled beyond the forest line.One evening, Damien summoned her to the library. A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing amber light across the shelves. On the table lay several old books weathered leather, symbols embossed in silver.I need you to catalog these, he wrote, sliding them toward her. Do not open the red one.Her eyes flicked to the crimson-bound volume at the center. Its cover
last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-07
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Chapter 4
The forest was restless.For three nights, Damien did not return. The mansion grew colder, the staff vanished one by one, and the silence that once protected Lena began to suffocate her. Every creak of the floorboards, every sigh of wind felt like the house was whispering secrets she wasn’t meant to hear.She spent her hours in the library, tracing the faded ink of the red book she had sworn not to open again. But its words burned into her memory—the drawings, the dates, her own portrait labeled The Mute Oracle.Who had she been a century ago?And why did Damien look at her as though time had simply looped back on itself?On the fourth night, the moon rose red.The pendant around her neck grew warm, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Then footsteps.Slow. Heavy. Familiar.Damien stood at the doorway, his black coat shredded, mud and blood streaking his hands. His eyes glowed faintly silver in the firelight.Lena’s breath hitched. She ran to him without thinking, catching his arm before
last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-07
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Chapter 5
The dawn came crimson, the sky veined with fire.Lena stood at the balcony of her chamber, the pendant at her throat pulsing faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. The forest below was unnaturally still; not a single bird stirred, not a whisper of wind moved the pines. It was the calm before something vast and final.The Blood Moon had risen. Tonight, the curse would either break or consume them both.Damien had vanished before sunrise, leaving only a note, written with the same precision and restraint that had defined his every gesture:Do not follow me into the forest. When the moon eclipses, the beast must die or I must.The ink had smudged, as if written with shaking hands.Lena pressed the paper to her chest. Her silence, once a burden, now screamed louder than any voice could. She could feel his pain echoing in her bones, through the bond that tethered them.She would not lose him. Not again.By twilight, the mansion had become a cathedral of ghosts. The portraits on the walls se
last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-07
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Chapter 6
Lena awoke aching, her muscles stiff and leaden on the stone podium. Each shallow breath came with effort. Morning light seeped in, barely disturbing the slumbering figures around her. It took a moment to recall where she was and the pain she’d endured.Then she felt the warmth beside her.Not the burning agony of last night, but true, human warmth Damien’s warmth. The steady thud of his heartbeat was soothing. The faint scent of damp earth lingered in the air, promising solace.Her eyes opened.He lay on his side, one arm beneath his head, the other near hers. His hair, usually neat, now fell in messy strands. His lashes were still damp with tears. His breathing, uneven but alive, ghosted the space between them.Lena did not move.Something about him, in this fragile state, felt sacred.Damien had broken last night in a way Lena had never seen. Despite her experience as a child psychologist, his suffering was beyond comprehension. Watching the tension in his fingers and chest pulled
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-01
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Chapter 7
The mansion had always loomed grand, echoing, thick with secrets. But after the ritual, after Damien confessed to memories that were never his, the halls changed. Now, every carved pillar and moonlit corridor seemed to watch Lena, their silent awareness pressing in, waiting for her to notice.Or perhaps it was she who had changed.The change began quietly.A whisper in her dreams the first night.A warmth beneath her skin, the second.A soft glow, the third.By the fourth morning, Lena knew something was wrong.She faced the tall, antique mirror in her guest chamber, fingers trembling as she eased down the collar of her nightshirt. Beneath her skin, a faint shimmer pulsed an ember longing for air.A mark.A silvery, swirling sigil just below her collarbone.Alive.“Lena?” Damien’s voice came from the doorway rough, tired, and careful. He knocked softly even though the door was open. “I didn’t want to wake you, but ”He stopped.His breath left him in a single strangled sound.Lena tur
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-01
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Chapter 8
After the Anchor Mark awakened, time seemed to slow. Each heartbeat drew Lena further into a fate she’d never chosen and bound her more tightly to Damien’s world. But it wasn’t only the distance between them that shifted.It was awareness. Connection. Consequences. On the first night, Lena jolted awake to the quiet sound of someone else breathing. Her pulse hammered in her ears. Silver moonlight spilled across the floor from the balcony, washing over Damien as he stood motionless, bare-chested, his eyes faintly glowing like the curse was still alive inside him. “Damien?” she whispered. He drew a sharp breath, his body rigid. “I felt pain,” he murmured. “From you.” Lena’s hand flew to the Anchor Mark. “I didn’t ” “You dreamed,” he said. “You cried.” Her voice wavered. “How did you know?” “This bond,” he said quietly, “lets me feel what you feel. Like your emotions are my own.” Lena didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The truth was, she had dreamed. She saw the endless corridor of past lives,
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-01
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Chapter 9
Dusk rolled in on a sudden storm, cold winds rattling the old mansion’s bones. Lena felt the shift before she heard the thunder, her nerves alive with a strange, fierce resolve. Damien caught it too. They met at the bottom of the grand staircase both out of breath, both scared, sharing a wordless fear neither could name. As rain hammered the windows, Lena’s promise to stay with Damien braided their fates into the heart of the storm.“It’s happening,” Damien said, voice low, eyes bright with the silver glow of the curse.The whole house shuddered. Candle flames jittered and stretched. The air pressed heavy on their skin, charged with something old and electric.“The Binding Moon,” he whispered.Lena swallowed hard. “What does that mean?”“It means the curse peaks tonight. It’s hungry to finish the cycle to end what it started centuries ago.”A pulse of magic surged through Damien. He gritted his teeth, doubling over briefly.“Damien!” Lena caught him.He shook his head violently. “Don’
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-01
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Chapter 10
The Bond, the Breath, and the BeginningThe world came back to Lena slowly, like a lantern flickering to life in a room long drowned in darkness.At first, there was only warmth.Not feverish heat, not curse burn, not the searing agony that had torn through her body moments before this warmth was soft, steady, and strangely familiar. It wrapped around her like a cloak, like a promise whispered from another lifetime.Then came the scentcedarwood, rain, smoke.Damien.Her breath caught before she even opened her eyes.A shadow shifted beside her, tense but gentle, as if afraid to breathe too loudly. The air hummed with a quiet, anxious energy that could belong only to one man.“Lena…” His voice was barely a whisper, raw with fear and relief all tangled together. “Please… wake up.”She opened her eyes.Damien’s face hovered above hers pale, battered, but breathtakingly alive. His normally sharp, stoic expression was completely undone. His eyes held nights of grief and centuries of yearni
last updateLast Updated : 2025-12-02
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