CHAPTER SEVEN: SEALING THE CONTRACT

CHAPTER SEVEN

***MEI'S POV***

​ The silver fork in my hand suddenly feels heavy enough to snap.

​I stare at Borin across the empty restaurant, my heart executing a slow, violent thud against my ribs.

The heavy, smug satisfaction radiating off his perfectly tailored frame is practically suffocating.

Jerk.

​

I refuse the urge to roll my eyes as I force my rigid posture to relax by a fraction of a millimeter, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me sweat.

"I beg your pardon?" I say, my voice dangerously smooth, slicing through the quiet space of Chavron.

​

"You heard me, Miss Chatteris," Borin says, leaning back into his leather seat with that insufferable, effortless grace. "An Alpha of your standing living in a separate downtown hotel while her supposed betrothed resides in the Shadowcrest estate screams 'sham contract' to the media. And worse, it tells the Iron Claws exactly where to find a soft target."

​

"I am nobody's soft target, Mr. Holloway," I snap, my eyes narrowing. "Living under the same roof was never a condition. My core team requires constant proximity to the data grids. I am not running a global tech empire from a secluded pack fortress."

​

"Who said anything about a fortress?" He tilts his head, his gray eyes pinning me to the back of my chair. "I have a private penthouse in the upper district of Vos. Highly secured. Human-accessible for your assistant, Curtis. And, more importantly, reinforced against supernatural breaches. If the Iron Claws decide to test your boundaries again, I want you behind a line my sentries actually control."

Oh.

I stare long and hard at him, and for the first time, I notice his blonde hair stopping just right above his brows and the way he clenches his jaw as he antipates my response.

His eyes searching and analysing, running thousands of simulations on how I'd react and possibly how he'd respond.

He might be an alpha, but he's a Veil first— his kind always desperate for information.

I take in a deep breath as I pinch the skin my brows, my lower lip catching between my teeth.

I hate feeling conered, but it's either this or battle the Ironclaw myself. As much as I'd prefer to, I really can't. I can't risk the lives of the innocent humans that work for me.

I can't let anyone take this empire from me.

I do a quick sweep of the empty room, as I lean into my chair.

Why isn't the waiter here yet?

I look back at Borin, he seems to have taken out his note again, his hand moving in a particular rhythm as he scribbles something down.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I ​reach for my phone, my fingers flying across the screen as I type a rapid amendment directly into the digital contract file.

With a cold, deliberate snap of my wrist, I slide the phone across the polished wood table toward him.

Just because I'm agreeing to his terms doesn't mean I have to be nice about it.

​

"Fine," I say, my voice dropping an octave, deadpan and steady. "I will occupy the penthouse. But under three non-negotiable terms."

​

Borin raises an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine curiosity crossing his face as he glances down at the screen.

"Enlighten me."

"First, we occupy separate wings. Second, Curtis answers to me—not your guards....third, every public appearance is scheduled beforehand." I blurt as I watch him stare at the screen. He squints his eyes as he brings the phone dangerously close to his face.

Can he not see?

Strange.

Weren't Veils rumored to lose their eyesight earlier than most werewolves?

I clear my throat and refrain from asking.

​

Borin reads the text line by line. For a second, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers stops.

​

The silence stretches, heavy and thick, until a low, rich chuckle vibrates deep in his chest.

He looks up, the gray in his eyes darkening with a dangerous, predatory fascination and I hate when he does that.

I glare back, mirroring his actions.

If he cannot take the hint, and stop the uncomfortable staring, I might as well shove it in his face.

​"We have a deal, Miss Chatteris. Welcome to the penthouse."

He says, leaning into his chair even further.

Good.

A slight grin creeps up my lips.

I may have had to negotiate some of my initial terms, but I'm going to walk out of here, with substantial level of control.

"Well then—" I open my mouth to speak when we hear a scream coming from behind me .

Plates crash against the marble floor.

Every muscle in Borin's body goes rigid.

My wolf surges to the surface.

What's going on?