Chapter 6

~Edward

The rain hammered against the windshield, drowning out the low rumble of the engine. My fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the storm as I scrolled through my contact list. Fenrir’s voice cut through the silence in my head.  

"Rose. She’s a safe bet," he offered, tone casual. "You got her through college. Polite, drama-free."  

"She’s married," I said flatly, skipping past her name.  

"Fine. Clara, then," he pressed. "You saved her father’s business. She’d be grateful, polished enough to handle the role. Or do you want me to just list every woman you’ve helped?"  

I sighed, irritation simmering. "This isn’t a raffle. I need someone who fits, someone who won’t complicate things."  

Fenrir chuckled, his tone mocking. "And when Mildred comes back? What’s the plan for your stand-in Luna? A fake divorce? A scandal?"  

I gritted my teeth. "She’ll sign a contract. It’ll be temporary. A year, maybe two. Long enough to shut my mother and the council up before the coronation. After that, she’ll walk away with a fat settlement."  

"No intimacy?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. "Your mother won’t buy it. No heir means no throne. What happens if you drop dead tomorrow?"  

I smirked, unwilling to take the bait. "That’s tomorrow’s problem. For now, the contract says no intimacy, no children. The council gets their Luna, my mother gets off my back, and I get peace."  

"Peace," Fenrir repeated, his tone dripping sarcasm. "You keep telling yourself that."  

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. Clara’s name lit up the screen.  

"Quiet," I muttered, swiping to answer. "Clara. It’s Edward Winchester."  

"Alpha Edward!" Her voice was warm, hesitant. "It’s been a while. I still can’t thank you for what you did for my father. We’d have lost everything without you."  

"It was nothing," I said smoothly. "Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you. I have a proposal—"  

"Edward," she cut in softly, "I’m engaged. I just met my mate."  

The words landed like a slap. "Ah," I managed, forcing a polite tone. "Congratulations. He’s lucky."  

"Thank you," she said gently. "I wish you the best."  

The call ended with a quiet goodbye, leaving only the relentless drum of rain and Fenrir’s smug laugh.  

"She was your best shot," he said, amused.  

"Not the only one," I muttered, scrolling again.  

The road stretched ahead, slick with rain and cloaked in shadows. I was about to try another number when movement on the shoulder caught my eye. A figure stumbled through the storm, drenched and unsteady.  

Her hair stuck to her face, her steps uneven. Something about her pulled at my memory, but before I could place it, headlights from the opposite direction lit her up. The car didn’t slow. It hit her and sped off.  

"Shit!" I slammed the brakes, the tires skidding on the wet road.  

I jumped out, rain slamming into me as I ran toward her crumpled body. She lay motionless in the mud, her clothes soaked and smeared with dirt. Kneeling beside her, I turned her face toward me.  

Recognition hit like a punch to the gut. It was her—the girl from last night.  

"That bastard didn’t even stop," I muttered, scooping her up. She was limp, her breaths shallow. Blood seeped onto my shirt as I carried her to the car.  

"Hospital. Now," Fenrir growled.  

"I know," I snapped, my pulse racing as I settled her into the back seat.  

The rain came down harder, blurring the road as I sped toward town, gripping the wheel like a lifeline.

ONE WEEK LATER

The girl hadn’t spoken since the accident. She was physically fine—barely a scratch on her—but emotionally? She was shattered. The maids tiptoed around her, murmuring that she hadn’t moved from the bed all day.  

Fenrir grumbled in my mind. “At least you tracked down the bastard who hit her. Scum like that shouldn’t walk free.”  

I didn't reply, I reached the door of her room, pushing it open quietly. She was there, sitting on the edge of the bed like a porcelain doll. Her pale face was turned toward the window, where raindrops trickled down the glass in soft streaks. Her hands rested motionless in her lap, and her eyes seemed distant, unfocused.

  

The maids stood off to the side, whispering among themselves. One glanced at me, then stepped forward. 

“Alpha, she hasn’t spoken yet. She just stares at the same spot all day,” the maid informed me, wringing her hands nervously. 

I nodded and dismissed them with a wave of my hand. “Leave us. I’ll take it from here.”

They scurried away, leaving me alone with her. I pulled up a chair and sat, studying her. She looked... empty, like life had been drained from her.  

“What’s your name?” I asked gently.  

No answer. Her lips trembled, but nothing came out.  

And then, unexpectedly, tears began to spill down her cheeks. Silent tears that left streaks across her pale skin. She turned to look at me for the first time since she’d been in my house. Her eyes—green and filled with so much pain—bore into mine.  

“I want revenge,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky.

I straightened, trying to make sense of her sudden outburst. “Revenge? On who?”  

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. “They killed him,” she said, her voice breaking. “They killed my brother. My twin. And then they blamed me for it.”

My chest tightened. “Who did?”  

She struggled to stand, her injured leg wobbling under her weight. I was on my feet in an instant, catching her before she could fall. She collapsed into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably against my chest.

“They took everything from me,” she sobbed into my chest. “Why didn’t I go home that night? Why did you offer to help me?” 

Her grief hit like a tidal wave, leaving me at a loss for words. I held her tighter, my hand brushing her hair. “I’ll help you,” I said quietly. “I’ll find them. I swear.”  

She pulled back, her tear-streaked face full of doubt. “How?”  

I hesitated, then decided there was no point in hiding it. “Because I’m Edward Winchester,” I said. “Alpha King of the werewolf kingdom. If anyone can find them, it’s me.”  

Her eyes widened. “You’re... the Alpha King?”  

I nodded. “Not officially, but yes. I’ll use every resource I have to make them pay. That’s my promise.”  

She stared at me, her voice trembling. “Thank you.”  

Fenrir’s voice cut into my thoughts like a knife. “She’s perfect.”  

I frowned internally. “Perfect for what?”  

“Don’t be dense, Edward. You’ve been searching for a contract Luna, haven’t you? One is sitting right in front of you. And the best part? She’s an Alpha.”  

I glanced at her, my mind racing. “How can you be so sure she’s an Alpha?”  

“I felt it the night you two were together. Her scent, her aura—it’s unmistakable.”

I mulled over his words, my eyes flicking back to her. Maybe he was right.  

Clearing my throat, I spoke again. “Listen, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.”  

She looked wary. “What is it?”  

I leaned back, choosing my words carefully. “I’ll help you find your brother’s killers, but I need something in return.”  

Her expression hardened. “What do you want?”  

“In two weeks, I'm expected to ascend the throne,” I explained. “But I need a Luna by my side to do it. Without one, I lose everything. I’m offering you a deal: be my contract Luna for a year, and I’ll make sure you get your revenge. After that, you’re free to go—with more money than you’ll ever need.”  

She blinked, stunned. “You want me to pretend to be your Luna?”  

“Yes,” I said simply. “You’ll have the title, the protection, and the resources. And in return, I get my coronation and the council off my back. It’s a win for both of us.”  

She turned away, her fingers twisting nervously. “I don’t know...”  

I leaned forward, my voice steady. “You’ve alreadylost so much. Let me help you take something back. Together, we can make them pay. But I need your answer soon. Time is running out.”