CHAPTER 3: The Bargain

Ashford Tower rose from downtown Seattle like a monument to werewolf ambition, seventy-three floors of glass and steel that reflected the gray morning sky. Gabriel stood across the street, watching expensive cars pull up while uniformed valets opened doors for people who radiated wealth and confidence.

He wore the same worn jacket from the night before, jeans patched twice at the knees, boots that had seen better years. His reflection in a shop window showed exactly what he was: someone surviving on the margins, scraping by on investigation jobs that barely covered rent.

Gabriel forced himself to cross the street. The lobby was all marble floors and abstract sculptures that probably cost more than he would earn in his lifetime. The security desk sat dead center, manned by three guards who radiated supernatural alertness.

"I need to see Dominic Ashford," Gabriel said, keeping his voice steady. "My name is Gabriel Thorne."

The lead guard's nostrils flared, scenting him. Her expression shifted to recognition mixed with distaste. She knew exactly who he was.

"Mr. Ashford does not take unscheduled appointments," she said coldly.

Gabriel showed her the email his mother had sent at dawn. "Catherine Thorne sent him a formal request last night. Check your system."

The guard's jaw tightened. She typed aggressively, read something on her screen, then picked up the phone. After a brief conversation, she gestured toward leather chairs that looked too expensive for his worn clothes.

"Wait over there."

Gabriel waited for two hours and seventeen minutes, watching every second tick by on the massive clock above reception. Nobody spoke to him, or acknowledged his existence except to occasionally glance his way with expressions ranging from curiosity to contempt.

When the elevator finally opened, Ethan Cross stepped out. Dominic's Beta, built like controlled violence wrapped in expensive tailoring.

"Gabriel Thorne," Ethan said with a professional smile that held no warmth. "Mr. Ashford will see you now."

They rode the elevator in silence. The mate bond hummed beneath Gabriel's ribs, intensifying as he got closer to Dominic. His body knew his mate was near.

The elevator opened onto the sixty-eighth floor. Ethan led him to double doors marked "Executive Conference Room" and pushed them open without knocking.

The room was enormous, dominated by a massive table surrounded by a dozen pack executives who turned to stare at Gabriel. Dominic Ashford sat at the head of the table, and the sight of him hit Gabriel like a physical blow.

He had gotten more beautiful in five years. Where the twenty-two-year-old Alpha had still carried traces of youth, the twenty-seven-year-old version was all sharp edges and controlled power. His dark hair was cut shorter, his jaw more defined, shoulders broader beneath a custom suit. Those golden eyes turned toward Gabriel with all the warmth of a winter storm, taking in his appearance with a single dismissive glance.

Dominic did not stand, or acknowledge Gabriel beyond that initial look. He gestured toward an empty chair at the far end of the table and returned his attention to the document in front of him.

"Sit. We're in the middle of something. You can wait until we're finished."

Gabriel sat, feeling every pack executive's judgment. The meeting continued for forty-five minutes. Dominic never looked at him again, conducting business with cold efficiency.

When the executives finally filed out, several shot Gabriel looks ranging from pity to contempt. Ethan paused at the door, giving Dominic a questioning look. Dominic shook his head once, sending his Beta away.

The silence stretched between them. Dominic gathered his papers with deliberate care, still not looking at Gabriel.

"Your mother's email was remarkably detailed," Dominic said finally, his voice flat. "Patriarch Thorne is cursed, you need Alpha blood to break it, and apparently I'm the only one powerful enough to do the job." His golden eyes met Gabriel's with complete absence of warmth. "Tell me, Gabriel. Why should I help the man who trained you to hunt and kill my kind?"

Gabriel forced himself to meet that cold gaze. "Because despite everything, he's still my father. Because I'm asking you to do this not for him, but for me."

"For you," Dominic repeated, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "You, who I rejected five years ago. You think that bond gives you some claim on my compassion?"

"I think you'll feel it if he dies and I break from the grief," Gabriel said quietly. "I think you know that no matter how much you've tried to suppress it, you'll feel my pain through the mate bond whether you want to or not."

Dominic stood, walking around the table until he stood directly in front of Gabriel. This close, Gabriel could smell him, feel the heat radiating from his body.

"You're right," Dominic said softly. "I would feel it. I would feel you shatter, and it would hurt me in ways I've spent five years trying to avoid. So I'm going to make you an offer, Gabriel Thorne, and you're going to accept it because you have no other choice."

Gabriel waited, heart hammering.

"Thirty days," Dominic said, each word precise. "You move into my penthouse. You live there, under my supervision. You attend pack functions as my companion, and you submit to the mate bond suppression therapy I've been funding for the past three years. It's experimental, it's unpleasant, and there's a chance it will break you in ways that have nothing to do with your father's curse."

"What does this therapy do?" Gabriel managed to ask.

"It tests whether forced proximity and controlled exposure can weaken a rejected mate bond to the point of severance," Dominic explained with clinical detachment. "You'll be part of the study, Gabriel. My personal test case to prove that even fated mate bonds can be broken with enough determination."

The cruelty of it took Gabriel's breath away. Dominic wanted to use him as a laboratory experiment, wanted to spend thirty days systematically destroying whatever connection existed between them while dangling his father's life as motivation.

"And if I survive this therapy?" Gabriel asked.

"Then I'll give your father my blood," Dominic said. "I'll break the curse, save his life, and send you back to whatever pathetic existence you've been living. You'll never have to see me again, and I'll finally be free of the mistake that's been haunting me since the night we met."

Gabriel looked into those golden eyes and saw nothing but cold determination. The therapy would be torture. Spending thirty days with someone who wanted nothing more than to prove their bond was worthless would break him in ways exile never had.

"I'll provide enough blood within the seventy-two hours to halt the curse's advance, to keep your father suspended between life and death. He won't get worse, but he won't get better either. Thirty days, Gabriel. Thirty days of therapy, of proving our bond can be broken, and then I'll give him the cure that actually saves his life. Fail to complete the terms, and the stabilization wears off. Your choice."

"I accept," Gabriel heard himself say. "Thirty days. I'll do your therapy. And then you'll save my father."

Dominic extended his hand, purely business, devoid of warmth.

"Then we have a deal, Gabriel Thorne. Welcome to your own personal hell."

Gabriel took the offered hand, felt the shock of skin against skin, felt the mate bond flare between them like electricity. Dominic felt it too, from the way his pupils dilated, his breath catching before control reasserted itself.

Thirty days of proximity and rejection, of scientific torture disguised as therapy, of proving their bond meant nothing.

The only question was which would kill Gabriel first: the therapy designed to break their bond, or the hope that his mate might still exist beneath Dominic's cruelty.