THE ALPHA

CHAPTER 3

The study door was already open when I got there.

That bothered me more than it should have.

It was as if someone had known exactly when I would arrive.

I paused outside for a second, then stepped inside.

Roman Draven didn't look up.

He sat behind a desk the size of my old bedroom, a pen moving steadily across a stack of papers. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing strong hands and veins that stood out beneath his skin.

He looked completely at ease.

Like I hadn't spent the entire morning wondering what kind of man I was about to meet.

Like he hadn't been the reason I barely slept.

"You wanted to see me."

"Sit."

He still didn't look up.

I remained standing.

"I'd rather stand."

That got his attention.

His eyes lifted slowly.

And I understood in half a second why grown men reportedly went quiet around him.

It wasn't just his size, though he had plenty of that.

It was the stillness.

He didn't fidget.

Didn't shift.

Didn't look nervous.

He simply watched me with the calm certainty of someone who was used to being obeyed.

"Sit, Mira."

Hearing him say my name sent an unexpected flutter through my chest.

I ignored it.

Then I sat.

"Better."

He placed the pen down.

"I assume Greta explained the household rules."

"She gave me a list."

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Not much explaining was involved."

The corner of his mouth almost moved.

Almost.

"Fair enough."

He pulled a folder from the side of his desk and pushed it toward me.

"Then I'll be thorough where she wasn't."

I reached for it.

The instant my fingers brushed the folder, that familiar tingling crawled through my hand.

I pulled back.

Roman's eyes dropped to my fingers.

I quickly placed my hand in my lap.

If he'd noticed, he didn't comment.

"You'll live here for the duration of the pregnancy," he said. "You'll be examined weekly by our pack healer. The examinations aren't negotiable. Neither is your cooperation with the medical process."

"And after?"

"After the birth, the child remains with the Draven family, as outlined in the contract you signed."

His voice was flat.

Clinical.

"The payment will be transferred when the agreement is fulfilled. After that, you return home."

"Fulfilled."

I repeated the word.

"Like I'm delivering a package."

His gaze hardened.

"It's a contract."

"Nine months of my life is a contract to you."

"Yes."

The answer came so quickly that I almost laughed.

At least he wasn't pretending.

"Would you prefer I lie to you about what this is?"

"No."

I held his gaze.

"I'd prefer you tell me why it's me."

Silence.

Roman leaned back.

"Compatibility."

"That's what your envoy said."

"And?"

"It's not an answer."

"It's the only answer you need."

"No, it isn't."

His eyes narrowed.

"I was tested without knowing about it."

"You were assessed."

"Without my permission."

"Your permission wasn't required for the preliminary assessment."

My stomach tightened.

"What exactly did you assess?"

He didn't answer.

"Blood?"

Silence.

"Medical history?"

Nothing.

"Something else?"

His jaw tightened.

That tiny reaction told me more than words could have.

"There are things about your history you don't know," he said.

My heartbeat stumbled.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you should stop digging into things that don't concern you."

I stared at him.

"You brought me here."

"Yes."

"You chose me."

"Yes."

"Then I think it concerns me."

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Something strange passed through his eyes.

Not anger.

Recognition.

Almost like he'd expected me to say exactly that.

Then he looked away.

"You ask too many questions."

"Maybe you give too few answers."

A beat of silence.

Then, unexpectedly, he said, "You haven't changed."

I froze.

"What?"

Roman's eyes returned to mine.

For the first time, he looked like he'd made a mistake.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"You said I haven't changed."

"I said you ask too many questions."

"No."

I leaned forward.

"You said I haven't changed."

His expression closed.

"You heard incorrectly."

"I didn't."

"Mira."

My name came out as a warning.

I sat back.

There was something he wasn't telling me.

I could feel it.

And suddenly the compatibility assessment wasn't the only thing bothering me.

I looked around the study.

Bookshelves covered one wall.

A fireplace stood cold and dark.

Several framed photographs sat on a cabinet.

Then I noticed something on the corner of his desk.

A silver picture frame.

Face-down.

I stared at it.

Roman noticed.

His entire posture changed.

"Don't."

One word.

Sharp.

I looked back at him.

"Who is in the picture?"

"No one you need to know."

"Why is it turned over?"

His eyes hardened.

"Because I said so."

I should have stopped.

Instead, I asked, "Is she someone you lost?"

The room went completely still.

Roman's expression became unreadable.

"You're done."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"The meeting is over."

He stood.

So did I.

But before I could turn away, a low sound suddenly rolled through the room.

It came from him.

Deep.

Almost like a growl.

Roman immediately went rigid.

His hands flattened against the desk.

I froze.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

His voice was tighter now.

"That wasn't nothing."

His eyes snapped to mine.

For one unguarded second, I saw something I'd never expected to see in the eyes of a man like Roman Draven.

Fear.

Not fear of me.

Fear of something happening to him.

His jaw clenched.

Then his expression changed again.

Controlled.

Cold.

Untouchable.

"You should leave."

I didn't move.

"What are you hiding?"

His gaze sharpened.

"Go."

I took one step toward the door.

Then stopped.

Because the tingling had returned.

Not in my hand this time.

In my chest.

A strange pressure built beneath my ribs.

Roman's eyes widened.

He felt it too.

"What is happening?" I whispered.

He didn't answer.

His attention had dropped to my wrist.

I looked down.

A faint silver mark was visible beneath my skin.

I had never seen it before.

I rubbed it.

It disappeared.

I looked up.

Roman was staring at me like he'd just seen a ghost.

"You have it."

My pulse stopped.

"Have what?"

He didn't answer.

"Roman."

His face had gone pale.

For the first time since I'd entered the study, the terrifying Alpha looked genuinely shaken.

"Where did you get that mark?"

"I don't know."

His breathing changed.

He stepped around the desk.

"Show me."

I instinctively stepped backward.

"You know what it is."

His eyes locked onto mine.

"I know what it means."

My heart hammered.

"Then tell me."

He stared at me for several seconds.

Then his expression hardened again.

"You will not speak about what happened in this room."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

His jaw flexed.

"You should go."

I turned toward the door.

"You will not be harmed here," he said suddenly.

I looked back.

He wasn't looking at me.

His eyes were fixed on the face-down photograph on his desk.

It should have sounded like comfort.

Instead, it sounded like a warning.

I walked out.

But I didn't make it far.

Because the moment the study door closed behind me, I heard Roman's voice through the wood.

"She has the mark."

I stopped breathing.

Another man's voice answered from somewhere inside the study.

"What?"

Roman's reply was low.

"Tell the council nothing."

My heart began pounding.

The second voice sounded frightened.

"But Alpha"

"I said nothing."

I backed away from the door.

My hands were shaking.

They knew.

Whatever the mark was, Roman knew.

The people inside Blackthorn knew.

And somehow, they had been expecting it.

I hurried down the corridor before anyone could catch me listening.

When I reached my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it.

Then I stared at my wrist.

Nothing.

No mark.

No silver.

Just my skin.

But Roman had seen it.

And so had I.

I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to make sense of everything.

The strange tingling.

The wolf I'd heard outside my window.

The conversations I'd overheard.

The compatibility assessment.

Roman's strange reaction to me.

And now the mark.

Nine months ago, I had never heard the name Roman Draven.

Yesterday, I thought I was simply agreeing to become a surrogate.

Now I wasn't so sure.

Because there was one question I couldn't escape.

If Roman Draven chose me because I was compatible with him, why did he look terrified when he saw the mark on my skin?