THE CONTRACT

Alba's POV

Blackwood Estate didn’t look like a home.

It looked like a fortress.

The gates were black iron, 15 feet tall. Guards in black stood at every corner. No one smiled.

Rain was still falling when Ares’ SUV pulled up to the front doors.

The doors were massive. Wood and steel. And above them, carved in stone, was the same crest from the SUVs. A crown over a wolf’s head.

“Welcome to Blackwood Tower,” Ares said. He got out first and held the door for me.

I didn’t take his hand this time. I could walk.

The jacket he gave me was still on my shoulders. It was too big. The sleeves came past my hands. It smelled like cedar and rain and something uniquely him.

Inside was worse.

Marble floors. Chandeliers that cost more than my entire packhouse. Servants in black and silver uniforms lined the hall, heads bowed.

No one looked at me.

Good. I was used to being invisible.

Ares walked ahead of me. His back was straight. His hands were in his pockets like he owned the world. Which, I guessed, he kind of did.

“This way,” he said without looking back.

We walked through 3 halls, up a staircase, and stopped at double doors. Dark wood. Silver handles.

Two guards opened them.

His office.

It was bigger than my whole house in Nightfang. Floor to ceiling windows looking out over the estate. A massive black desk. Bookshelves. And a fireplace that was already lit, even though it wasn’t cold.

Ares walked to the desk and sat. He didn’t offer me a seat.

For a long minute he just looked at me.

Wet hair. Wet dress. Bare feet. Rope burns on my wrists. The cut on my cheek.

“Go shower,” he said finally. “There are clothes in the room across the hall. My assistant will show you.”

“I’m fine,” I said. My voice was steadier than I felt.

“You’re shivering,” he said. “Go.”

It wasn’t a request.

I nodded and turned to leave.

“Alba.”

I stopped.

He was still looking at my wrists. At the silver burns. His jaw was tight.

“My assistant will bring salve. Don’t use the pack doctor. I don’t trust them.”

Then he looked away.

I left.

---

The guest room was ridiculous. King size bed. Bathroom bigger than my old bedroom. And on the bed, folded neatly, were clothes.

Black pants. Black sweater. Underwear. Socks. All my size.

How did he know my size?

I showered until the water ran hot. Until the mud and the shame washed off. The salve the assistant brought stung, but it helped.

When I came back to the office 20 minutes later, Ares was on the phone.

“No,” he was saying. His voice was ice. “I don’t care what Kieran says. She’s under royal protection now. Touch her and I’ll take your pack.”

He hung up.

He looked up at me.

I was dry now. The black clothes fit. The sweater hid the bruises. My hair was in a braid.

He stared for half a second too long. Then he looked at the papers on his desk.

“Sit.”

This time I did. The chair was leather. Expensive.

He slid a folder across the desk.

“Contract,” he said. “Read it.”

I opened it.

*ROYAL CONTRACT OF TEMPORARY MATING AND PROTECTION*

*Between Alpha King Ares Blackwood and Alba Monroe*

Clause 1: Duration. 6 months.

Clause 2: Duties of Luna. Attend all public events. Act as mate. Assist in investigation.

Clause 3: Duties of King. Provide housing, protection, training, and resources.

Clause 4: Compensation. $500,000 upon completion. Plus immunity from all Nightfang charges.

Clause 5: Termination. Either party may terminate with 30 days notice.

It was 12 pages. Legal words. Cold words.

“Why $500,000?” I asked.

“Because I need you to look like you have something to gain,” Ares said. “If you’re just a charity case, no one will believe you’re my Luna.”

“And the training?”

“I told you. Your wolf is suppressed, not gone. We’ll find out who did it.”

I flipped to the last page. Signature line.

My hand hovered over it.

This was it. Sign this and I was tied to him. To the most dangerous man in the werewolf world.

Sign this and I could make Veronica pay.

“Do you have questions?” Ares asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Why me? You could have picked any high-born she-wolf.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Because you’re angry,” he said. “And angry people don’t break. They break things.”

The honesty knocked the air out of me.

I picked up the pen.

“One more thing,” I said before signing. “If this is fake, then we set rules. No kissing. No sleeping in the same bed. No touching unless it’s for show.”

Ares’ eyes flickered. “Agreed.”

I signed. Alba Monroe.

He signed under me. Ares Blackwood. His signature was sharp. Angry.

He stamped it with the royal seal.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You’re the Luna of Blackwood.”

The words felt fake. And real.

He stood and came around the desk. He stopped in front of me.

“From now on, when we’re in public, you stay close to me. You call me Ares. And you don’t look at anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because possessive mates are believable,” he said. Then, quieter, “And because I don’t like the way Kieran looked at you.”

My heart did something stupid.

“Understood,” I said.

He nodded. “Dinner is in an hour. We have guests. The first test of our contract.”

---

Dinner was hell.

20 people. All alphas and their lunas. All staring.

Ares had his hand on the small of my back the entire time.

“This is my Luna, Alba,” he said to everyone.

Some of them looked shocked. “Wolfless Alba Monroe?” one Luna whispered.

Ares heard. His hand tightened on me. “She’s not wolfless,” he said, loud enough for the whole table. “She’s mine.”

My face burned.

Through dinner, he fed me. Cut my steak. Poured my wine. His thumb brushed my knuckles once when he passed me a glass.

It was all for show.

It still made my stomach flip.

After dinner, a Luna came up to me. Older. Expensive dress.

“So you’re the new pet,” she said sweetly. “How quaint. Kieran must be devastated.”

I opened my mouth.

Ares appeared behind me. “Watch your mouth, Lady Selene,” he said. “Or I’ll have your husband’s trade routes revoked.”

The woman paled and walked away.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” Ares said. “Just play your part.”

But his hand stayed on my back until we left.

---

Back in the office, it was midnight.

Rain again.

Ares poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed me one.

“You did well,” he said.

“I hated every second.”

“I know.” He took a drink. “So did I.”

I looked at him. “You don’t like this either?”

“I hate politics,” he said. “I hate pretending. But I hate the idea of those girls more.”

He pulled out the file again. The 12 missing girls.

“One of them was my cousin,” he said quietly. “She was 17. Labeled weak. Disappeared.”

Oh.

That was why he was doing this.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “Be ready. Training starts at 5am.”

“5am?”

“You want your wolf back or not?”

I nodded.

He stood. “Good. My assistant will take you to your room. Don’t leave the estate alone.”

He walked me to the door. At the threshold, he stopped.

“Alba.”

“Yeah?”

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I don’t think you’re trash.”

Then he closed the door.

I stood in the hall for a long time.

The contract was signed.

The war had started.

And the Alpha King had just called me something no one else ever had.

Not trash.

I gripped the jacket he gave me tighter.

Tomorrow, I’d learn to fight.

Tomorrow, I’d start becoming the thing that scared them all.