Chapter 7: The Contract

The office felt like an actual freezer. I sat rigidly in the heavy leather chair, trying my hardest not to shiver. The sponsors standing in front of us looked like they wanted to wring our necks. They wore expensive suits that smelled like sharp cologne and pure anger.

“Three months,” the lead sponsor barked, his voice firm and completely empty of sympathy. “You two need to work together as a couple. Lovers. Until the European Championships are over. If there’s one single fight, or one more leaked video of you two trying to kill each other in the locker room, you’re both off the team. No exceptions.”

My stomach clenched painfully, twisting into a knot. I glanced sideways at Roland, secretly hoping he’d argue. He was the great Alpha—untouchable, proud, and the arrogant captain of the rival Northfang pack. Surely someone with his pride wouldn’t agree to this humiliating fake romance. But Roland just leaned back against the wood-paneled wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a lazy, confident smirk that seemed to enjoy the chaos we were in.

When the meeting finally ended and the sponsors left, the room grew eerily silent. The air felt heavy, almost hard to breathe. Roland pushed off the wall and slowly approached me. His shadow enveloped me, making me feel incredibly small and trapped. He leaned in, his face so close to mine I could smell the mint and pine on his breath.

“Three months of pretending, little omega,” he whispered softly. His voice was a gentle, teasing rasp right against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “I hope you’re good at pretending.”

I couldn’t even find the words. I knew I was in deep trouble. I was already struggling just to keep my balance, let alone pretending to be in love with my worst enemy. My family—especially my father, Alpha Dominic—has always seen me as a broken mistake. But I couldn’t let this ruin Lucien’s dream. It’s always been his lifelong goal to lift that golden cup. I had to protect him, even if it meant selling my own soul to Roland Hayes.

I stumbled out of the ice rink feeling like a dead man walking to his own funeral. The cold night air hit my face, but it didn’t ease the suffocating feeling in my chest. As I made my way to my car in the dark parking lot, my phone started buzzing wildly in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, and the glowing screen was flooded with messages from my real life — from the human world. Anna’s name flashed repeatedly. *Jeffery, where the hell are you?* *Are you okay? Maxwell said you weren’t at the diner today.* *Everyone is asking why you’re gone. Please answer me!* My hands trembled so much I could barely hold the phone. My chest ached with guilt. I missed Anna’s loud laugh, Maxwell’s silly jokes, the normal life where nobody expected me to be a perfect, aggressive hockey star. I quickly typed back, my thumbs slipping on the glass screen: *Family emergency. I have to be away for a few months. Please, just hold my notes for me. I promise I’ll explain later.* I hit send and immediately put the phone on silent. I couldn’t face her replies. I knew she was worried, but I was living a life that wasn’t mine. Every time I put on Lucien’s heavy hockey jersey, it felt like I was wearing a straightjacket. By the time I arrived back at my empty flat, I was exhausted. My muscles screamed in pain from the brutal training sessions. I didn’t even switch on the main lights. I just went straight into my small bedroom and gazed at my reflection in the dark mirror.

My silver-white hair caught the faint moonlight coming through the window blinds. It shone brightly, completely different from Lucien’s dark hair. I had to use temporary dye constantly just to look like him. But underneath the dye and the padding, I was still just Jeffery. The weak, defective twin who had never shifted into a wolf. I felt like a total imposter. The weight of the lies was crushing me, burying me alive. All I wanted was to go back to being a normal, invisible sixth-former.

I sighed deeply and reached out to switch off the bedside lamp. Just as my fingers brushed the switch, I heard a gentle tapping sound.

I froze. My heart beat wildly against my ribs. I slowly moved to the window and drew back the curtain. My breath caught in my throat. There he was. Roland. He stood outside on the rusty fire escape in the quiet of the night, looking as confident and dangerous as if he owned the world. The night wind was swirling his dark hair around, but he didn’t seem bothered by the freezing cold at all. He simply leaned against the metal frame and wore that infuriating, lazy smirk. “Pack your bags,” he said through the glass, his voice somehow calm and steady despite the wind. “Management says we’re moving in together. Starting tonight.” I looked at him in complete shock, my mouth slightly ajar. Before I could even reach up to lock the latch, he reached out from outside, unlatched the old lock, and pushed the window up. “Don’t just stand there,” he added warmly, stepping right into my bedroom as if he belonged there. “We have a lot of work to do.”

As soon as he entered, my bedroom suddenly felt tiny. His presence was intense, filling the narrow space with his irresistible Alpha scent—notes of pine and deep, earthy musk—which made my head whirl and my knees tremble. I hesitated, trying to say firmly, “You can’t just climb into my room,” as I stepped back until my legs touched the edge of my bed. But he responded with a smirk, using my real name, “I can do whatever I want, Jeffery.” Hearing my actual name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine. No one here was supposed to know who I truly was. “Especially now that you belong to me for the next three months.” He moved forward smoothly, like a predator closing in, until he stood right in front of me. I attempted to glare and look tough, but i felt my dick go semi hard . The fated mate bond we both tried to ignore flared up like a match igniting gasoline. He reached out, his large, warm hands gripping my waist, thumbs pressing deeply into my skin through my thin T-shirt. Roland’s voice lowered to a rough, dark, and needy tone, “We have to convince the whole world we are madly in love,” and he stepped closer, right between my legs as I remained frozen against the bed. “And I think we should start practicing right now.”

My breath caught in my throat. I could feel the firm, muscular heat of his body pressing gently against my chest. He lowered his head, his nose softly grazing my jawline as he took in my scent. My skin felt warm everywhere his breath touched. A strange, heavy ache began to grow in my lower stomach, a warm, hazy heat clouding my mind. My omega instincts, those I always thought were broken, suddenly surged, urging me to surrender, to let this powerful Alpha claim me.

“Do you know what people do when they move in together?” he asked, his thumb softly tracing my bottom lip. His touch was burning hot.

“”R-roommate stuff,” I stammered, cursing myself for sounding so breathless and feeble.

Roland chuckled, a low, wicked sound that vibrated against my chest. “No. Not when they are the internet’s favourite tragic lovers. They touch.” He slid his hand down my neck, his fingers resting heavily over my racing pulse. “They crave each other.”

His other hand slid under the hem of my shirt, his rough, warm palm resting flat against my bare stomach. I gasped loudly. The physical contact was pure electricity. My body was humming with a desperate, wild energy.

You feel it too, don’t you?” Roland murmured softly, leaning down until our lips were just millimeters apart. I could feel his chest rising and falling heavily, a hint of trembling in him. “Every time we fight on the ice, every time I slam you into the boards... you like it.”

“I hate you,” I whispered, breathless but honest. I tilted my head back as his hand slid higher along my stomach, his fingers brushing my chest, making my back arch into him.

“Good,” he growled softly, finally closing the distance with a gentle, firm press of his lips to mine.

The kiss was intense — wet and full of desperate longing. He tasted like mint, sweat, and something completely addictive. He gently pushed me back, guiding me to fall onto the mattress, his weight settling over me in a way that felt both comforting and exhilarating. His tongue gently demanded entry, sliding against mine, and I surrendered eagerly, my hands tangling in his dark hair to pull him even closer. We continued kissing, our breaths ragged and hearts pounding, our hips moving in the dark, until what started as a fake relationship suddenly felt all too real, raw with emotion.

He pulled back slightly, both of us breathing heavily in the quiet room. His thumb brushed softly over my swollen, damp lips.

“Pack your bags, Jeffery,” he whispered, his eyes shimmering with a dangerous glow in the shadows. “Because I’m not playing games anymore.”