Chapter 2 She Was Just A Contract

Dominic’s POV

The Night Before the Arrangement

"You need another woman."

I kept my face still. Years of leading had taught me that much—never let them see you flinch. But inside, something twisted.

Across the table, Elder Cedric and Elder Tobias nodded in unison. Their gray heads bobbed like puppets on strings, and I felt the walls of the chamber close in around me.

"You can't lose this election, Dominic." Elder Cedric leaned forward, his gnarled fingers drumming against the mahogany table. "The pack needs you. We need you."

The pack needs you.

Those words. They'd been carved into my bones since the day I took the throne. My pack didn't just need a leader—they needed a protector. A shield against the wolves who circled our borders, waiting for weakness.

And what was more weakening than an Alpha without an heir?

"What do you think I should do?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Get a surrogate," Elder Magnus said flatly. "A human. Someone who can carry your child without being affected by the curse."

A surrogate.

The word tasted sour on my tongue.

How would Freya feel? My mate, my heart, the woman who'd given up everything to stand by my side. She'd already suffered so much. The accident that stole her legs. The whispers behind her back. The pitying looks from wolves who once envied her position.

And now this. Another woman. Carrying my pup

It felt like a betrayal before it even began.

"You know I'm cursed." The words scraped out of my throat like broken glass. I lowered my head, unable to meet their eyes. Nothing could describe the shame I felt whenever I had to say that out loud. "I can't have a pup with any female werewolf. You know this. Freya and I have tried—"

"We know." Elder Magnus cut me off, impatient. "We've known for years, Dominic. Which is exactly why—"

I held up a hand, silencing him as I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"I don't need an heir to win the election.” I said quietly, my gaze steady on the elders. 

"We are the most powerful pack to ever exist. Our territory is the largest. Our warriors are the strongest. Our resources are unmatched. A child wouldn't make a difference against our rivals. My record speaks for itself."

The elders exchanged a look. That silent communication they'd perfected over decades of council meetings.

Then Elder Tobias spoke up, "It seems you want the entire pack to know that their extremely powerful leader is cursed."

My jaw tightened.

"Your enemies won't just question your leadership," Elder Cedric added. "They'll question your right to lead at all."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Elder Magnus slid a document across the table toward me.

"If this makes you feel any better, you should know your wife, Freya, is actually in support of this arrangement."

I grabbed the paper. My eyes scanned the familiar handwriting—Freya's elegant script, the loops and curls I'd memorized over the years.

She'd already signed.

Without telling me.

"Freya is in support of this," Elder Cedric repeated. "She's the one who recommended the candidate, actually. A human girl from one of the smaller packs. She's already been contacted and has agreed to the terms."

I stared at the paper. The words blurred.

My mate. The woman I'd sworn to protect. She'd gone behind my back and arranged all of this—a surrogate, a contract, a stranger carrying my child—without a single word to me.

"I still won't agree to this," I said, my voice flat.

The paper crumpled in my fist.

---

The drive home was a blur. The streets of our territory passed by in flashes—familiar landmarks, familiar faces—but I saw none of them. My mind was locked on a single thought.

Freya.

She was sitting in our bedroom when I arrived. The curtains were drawn, the lamps casting soft shadows across her face. She was beautiful—she was always beautiful—but tonight, I saw something different in her expression.

Nervousness. Uncertainty.

She knew I knew.

"We need to talk," I said, closing the door behind me.

Freya looked up from the book in her lap,  her hands trembling. "Dominic, I can explain—"

"You went behind my back."

The words came out harsher than I intended. I crossed the room in three strides, stopping just short of her wheelchair. My hands clenched at my sides, desperate for something to hold onto.

"You talked to the elders. You signed a document. You chose a candidate." I stared down at her, searching for something—anything—that would tell me this wasn't real. "Why? Why didn't you come to me first?"

Freya's eyes glistened. She reached up and took my hand, her fingers cold against my skin.

"Because I knew you'd say no," she whispered. "You always put my feelings above everything else, and I love you for it. But Dominic..." She squeezed my hand. "I want this. I want a child. I want to watch you hold our pup in your arms and know that we created something beautiful together, even if I can't carry it myself."

My chest ached.

"I want us to be happy," she continued, her voice soft and pleading. "And I know you want to win the election. I know how much the pack means to you. This is the only way, Dominic."

I dropped to my knees beside her chair. My forehead pressed against her hands.

"Freya..." My voice cracked. "Is this really what you want? Not what you think I need. Not what the pack needs. You. Your happiness is my priority. It has always been my priority. If this hurts you in any way—"

"It won't." She cupped my face, tilting my chin up until our eyes met. "It would make me so happy, Dominic. Knowing you'll win that election and we'll have a future together. A family."

A family.

The word wrapped around my heart like a vise.

She smiled, and for a moment, I let myself believe it. I let myself imagine a child with her warmth and  her gentle spirit.

"Think about what life would be like after," she murmured. "Mini Dominic playing around the house. Running through the halls. Maybe he'll have your eyes, your stubbornness—"

I laughed despite myself. "He'll be a nightmare."

"A beautiful nightmare." She stroked my cheek. "Our nightmare."

I leaned into her touch. The tension in my shoulders eased—slightly.

But then she spoke again.

"You know, she's only doing this for the money," Freya added, her voice softer now. "The surrogate. I offered her a generous sum, and she agreed immediately. I thought you should know."

I pulled back slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Freya hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. "She's human. Money means everything to them. I made her an offer she couldn't refuse, and she practically jumped at the chance. We’re helping her, too, so you don’t need to feel guilty about it or anything."

Money. Of course.

This was all about the money

"Human," I repeated, the word leaving a sour taste.

"Human," Freya confirmed. "But that's what we need, isn't it? Someone with human genes and won't be affected by the curse."

I nodded slowly. "Yes. Of course.

The image of my future child was now tainted by the thought of its mother—a woman who'd sold her body for cash.

A woman who didn't care about anything but the payment.

Worthless, something inside me whispered. She's just a vessel. Nothing more.

"Thank you for telling me," I said, pressing a kiss to Freya's forehead. "I love you. And I'm sorry. If it weren't for my curse, you wouldn't have to go through any of this."

Freya smiled up at me. "Look around, Dominic. I'm happy here. There's no place I'd rather be."

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight.

But even as I did, a cold voice whispered in the back of my mind.

She doesn't deserve this. None of this is her fault. The curse is yours. The guilt is yours. Always yours.

---

Hours After the Virginity Check

I couldn't sleep.

The bed beside me was empty—Freya had retired hours ago, exhausted by the day's events. But I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over again.

The room. The girl. The way she'd scrambled away from the nurse, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes blazing with defiance.

And that scent.

My wolf had reacted before I could stop him. A low rumble in my chest. A strange pull in my gut. An instinct I'd never felt before—not with Freya, not with anyone.

I'd closed the door, walked away and ordered them to stop the check.

But I couldn't explain why. That unfamiliar familiarness. That pull I didn't understand.

And the shame crept in—the guilt of feeling anything at all.

She's nothing, I told myself. Just a surrogate.

I had a mate. I loved my mate. Freya was my future, my loyalty, my promise.

The girl meant nothing. She was just a contract. A transaction. A body to carry my heir.