Chapter 3 Signed the Blood Pact

Xena's POV

I barely made it to my room before my knees gave out.

My phone buzzed. A text from Mira. She'd attached a photo—Mum in her hospital bed, tubes still attached, but her eyes were open. Alert. And she was smiling. Mira leaned into the frame beside her, her own smile bright but fragile.

We miss you, X. Stay strong for both of us ;} - Mira

I pressed my phone to my chest and sobbed. My little sister. My mother. They were out there, holding on, believing in me. Mom didn't know what I'd agreed to. They didn't know the weight I was carrying.

But they were there. Waiting. Hoping.

I wiped my face and forced myself to breathe. Stay strong. Stay strong for them.

I pushed myself to my feet and finally looked around the room.

The sight hit me like a slap.

An enormous bed dominated the center—silk sheets the color of spilled wine, pillows piled high, a gauzy canopy draped overhead. Dim lighting flickered from sconces. Scented candles burned on every surface. Vanilla. Jasmine. Something floral I couldn't name. The air was thick with it, cloying and intimate.

A vanity lined with expensive perfumes. Crystal bottles catching the light. A wardrobe thrown open to reveal silk nightgowns and lace robes, all hanging in neat rows. I walked to the bathroom—fluffy towels, bath oils, enough toiletries to keep me here for weeks.

I stepped back, my arms wrapped around myself.

This wasn't a room. This was a breeding chamber. Prepared for one purpose and one purpose only.

Get me pregnant.

The sickness crawled up my throat. I pressed my hand to my mouth and forced it down.

Just as I was about to collapse onto the bed, something caught my eye. A door. Tucked into the far wall, nearly invisible.

I crossed the room and tried the handle. Locked.

"What are you trying to do, my lady?"

I spun around. A short woman stood in the doorway—maid's uniform, gray dress, white apron. Her face was kind, lined with age and warmth.

"You scared me," I breathed.

"My apologies, my lady. I'm Elara. I'll be attending to you during your stay."

"Xena. Just Xena."

She smiled, but her eyes drifted to the door behind me. "Were you trying to open that?"

"Yes. I was curious where it leads."

"It's a connecting door." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. "To Alpha Dominic's room. It only opens from his end."

My blood ran cold. His end. Meaning he could come through whenever he wanted. I had no privacy. The walls between us were nothing more than a formality.

"He can just... walk in?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

"It's customary," Elara said gently. "For... convenience."

I wrapped my arms around myself again. The room felt smaller now. The walls pressed in. The candles flickered like they were laughing at me.

"Could I possibly change rooms?" The words tumbled out. "I don't mind if the other room is smaller. I just... I don't think I can sleep in here."

Elara's brow furrowed. "Is there something wrong with the room, my lady?"

"No, it's—" I swallowed. "It's beautiful. It's just... I need privacy. I'm not used to—"

"You don't have to force yourself to adjust immediately." Her voice was warm, maternal. "Everything must feel strange to you. If there's anything I can do to help—"

The bedroom door swung open.

Alpha Dominic stepped inside.

The temperature dropped. I felt it in my bones—the shift in the air, the tightening of the space around us. His presence filled every corner, suffocating and commanding.

His eyes found me. Cold. Assessing.

"Haven't we given you enough?" His voice was sharp. "What else do you want?"

I blinked, thrown off. "Excuse me?"

He took a step closer, jaw tight. "I heard you. From the hallway. You want a *different* room?"

"All I'm asking for is a room with more privacy." I met his gaze, refusing to back down.

"Is it more money?" He tilted his head, looking down at me like I was a problem to be solved. "Fine. I'll give you more money. Just do as you're told."

I stared at him.

And then I laughed—sharp and raw, cutting through the tension.

"That's funny." I stepped toward him, my hands trembling. "You think I'm asking for a room change for money?"

His expression darkened. "What else would you be asking for? You signed a contract. You were paid. The room was provided—"

"I'm asking for a better room, Alpha Dominic." I enunciated each word, my voice cold as ice. "One that doesn't have a door connecting to your bedroom. One where you can't just walk in whenever you feel like it."

His eyes flickered to the connecting door. Something unreadable passed across his face.

Then his expression hardened. "Your comfort isn't my concern. You have a job to do. Do it."

He turned and walked out. The door slammed behind him.

I stood there, frozen, heart pounding. The anger was still hot in my veins, but underneath it, something else was creeping in.

Your comfort isn't my concern.

I knew that. I'd known it from the moment I agreed to this. But hearing him say it out loud—hearing how little I mattered—still stung.

I sank onto the edge of the bed and pressed my palms against my eyes.

---

I felt like a doll.

The maids came before dawn—a whirlwind of hands and fabric and orders. They bathed me, styled my hair, dressed me in an ivory gown of silk so soft it felt like water against my skin. The dress clung to my curves, elegant and modest and somehow still exposing.

I watched myself in the mirror as they worked. A stranger stared back. My hair was swept up in an elaborate knot, loose curls framing my face. A delicate chain of flowers woven through the strands.

"Beautiful," Elara murmured. "You look beautiful, my lady."

I didn't feel beautiful. I felt like a painting. Something to be looked at, not something that existed on its own. A painting that was about to be sold tonight.

The head lady-in-waiting stepped back. "You're all set, my lady. Shall we?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

They led me through winding hallways to the ceremony hall. The doors swung open.

A sea of faces turned to look at me.

I forced my legs to move. The room was enormous—vaulted ceilings, stained glass casting colored light across marble floors, rows of wolves dressed in finery.

And at the altar, Alpha Dominic.

His hair was slicked back, his broad shoulders encased in a tailored black suit. He looked like a king. Remote. Untouchable.

His mood soured the moment he saw me. His jaw tightened, and he gestured sharply for me to approach.

I climbed the steps, my legs unsteady.

"Remember that all you have to do is make a promise of loyalty to me and the pack," he said, voice low. "Don't overcomplicate it."

I nodded.

A beta wolf approached—tall, sharp features, calculating eyes. He leaned in and whispered something to Dominic.

Dominic's face went still.

Then he rose. "The elders will continue without me. I have business to attend to."

Just like that, he was gone. He didn't look back. Didn't acknowledge I existed.

The doors closed behind him. The silence was deafening.

I stood at the altar alone.

Hundreds of eyes were on me. Wolves—some I'd never met, some I'd only seen in passing. All watching. Waiting.

My hands started to tremble. I pressed them together, but it only got worse. My heart hammered. My throat was dry.

Stay strong. Don't break. Not here. Not now.

Elder Magnus stepped forward, expression solemn. The room fell silent.

"Before the Moon Goddess and the Blackwood Pack," he began, "we gather to witness the formation of this blood pact."

His eyes settled on me.

"The terms are as follows. Once the pact takes effect, the surrogate shall have one year to conceive and bear Alpha Dominic's child. During this period, she is bound to cooperate with the conception attempts arranged by the pack."

I stopped breathing. My stomach twisted into a knot so tight I thought I might be sick. My nails pressed crescents into my palms.

"Once the child is born, the heir shall belong entirely to Alpha Dominic and the Blackwood Pack. The surrogate shall have no custody rights and shall not be permitted to remove the child from pack territory."

"In exchange, the compensation agreed upon shall be protected by this blood pact and paid according to the terms of the agreement."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"Both parties shall honor their obligations. Neither shall break this pact without consequence."

He held out a document. A pen.

"Sign here, and state your full name aloud."

My hands were shaking as I reached for the pen. The words blurred—legalese I couldn't parse, terms I didn't want to understand.

All I knew was this: signing meant I belonged to them. My body. My future. My child.

No going back.

I signed my name.

"Xena," I said, my voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "Xena Aris."

The words echoed off the walls, fading like the last of my hope.

---

Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed.

The silk sheets were cold against my skin. I stared at the ceiling, body heavy and numb.

The blood pact was sealed. One year to become pregnant. To carry Alpha Dominic's child. To give it away. To walk out as if none of it ever happened.

One year.

Soon, there would be a child growing inside me. And then I'd have to let it go.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears escaped anyway, sliding down my temples and soaking into the sheets.

What have I done?

I knew the answer. I'd done what I had to do. I'd traded myself for my mother's life. And now I had to pay the price.

I was drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness when I heard it.

Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.

My heart lurched. I sat up, eyes fixed on the door.

The footsteps stopped outside.

I held my breath. The silence was deafening.

The door handle turned.

The door swung open.

Alpha Dominic stepped inside.