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"You can't seriously expect me to—"
"I expect you to stand still." Kael Mercer didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. His hand closed around my wrist before I could yank the moon-ring off, and the metal burned cold against my skin like it had roots.
We were alone now. The ceremony hall had cleared the second he'd dragged me through the side door. No witnesses. No cameras. Just him and me and the ring that wouldn't come off no matter how hard I twisted.
"Let go," I said.
He didn't.
I looked up. He was taller than I'd thought from across the altar. Taller and broader and his eyes were wrong. Not brown. Not human. They had that thing people whispered about at the wedding—the edge of gold that meant the wolf was too close to the surface.
"You signed the contract," he said.
"I didn't sign anything."
"Your stepsister signed on your behalf. Legal proxy. Your family handed over guardianship three hours ago." He let go of my wrist but stayed close. Too close. I could feel the heat coming off him, and it made my skin crawl. Or maybe that was just rage. "The contract's binding. You're my bride now."
"Then unbind it."
"Can't."
"Won't."
"Can't." He stepped back, finally, and dragged a hand through his hair. It was dark, almost black, and someone had styled it for the wedding. Now it stuck up where his fingers had been. "Do you know what happens if I show up to the pack trial without a bride?"
"Not my problem."
"It will be." He turned, and I saw the line of his shoulders under the tailored jacket. Tight. Controlled. Like he was holding something back. "The council executes unstable heirs. No bride means no anchor. No anchor means I'm a liability."
I stared at him. "So you dragged me into this because you're scared of dying?"
"I dragged you into this because you were already being sold." His voice went flat. "Your stepmother signed the contract this morning. If I hadn't taken you, Vera's family would have. And they don't need you alive."
That stopped me cold.
Vera Crowne. The blonde wolf heiress who'd been supposed to get this ring. I'd seen her face when Kael tore up her contract instead. She'd looked like she wanted to rip my throat out with her teeth.
"Why me?" I asked. "Why not her?"
Kael didn't answer right away. He moved to the window, and the moonlight hit him wrong. For a second I thought I saw something else under his skin. A shadow. A shape that didn't match.
"Because Vera's bloodline can't do what yours does," he said finally.
"What the hell does that mean?"
He turned back. The gold in his eyes flared brighter. "It means your blood keeps me from tearing someone's head off at the next eclipse."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "You're insane."
"Probably." He crossed the space between us in two steps, and suddenly his hand was on the wall beside my head. I hadn't even seen him move. "But you're still wearing my ring. And it won't come off until the contract's fulfilled or one of us dies."
My pulse spiked. He was too close again. I could see the fine line of his jaw, the faint scar above his left eyebrow, the way his pupils had gone narrow like a cat's.
"Back up," I said.
He didn't.
"I said back up."
"Make me."
So I drove my knee up. Hard.
He caught it. His hand locked around my thigh before I made contact, and the heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of the borrowed wedding dress. For a second we just stood there, frozen, his hand on my leg and my breath coming too fast.
"You're faster than you look," I said.
"You're stupider than I thought." But he let go and stepped back. His hand flexed once at his side like it wanted to grab something. "You want out of this? Fine. There's one clause in the contract that lets you walk."
I straightened. "Tell me."
"Prove I'm unfit to lead. Bring evidence to the council that I'm a danger to the pack. They'll void the marriage and execute me instead."
My stomach twisted. "That's not a loophole. That's murder."
"That's the deal." He tilted his head, watching me. "Or you stay married and play the part. Your stepfamily gets the payout. I keep my head. And you get to live in a house with actual heat and food that isn't expired."
"I don't want your money."
"Then what do you want?"
I looked at him. Really looked. The sharp cut of his suit. The gold ring on his left hand that matched the one burning on mine. The eyes that weren't quite human.
And I thought about my mother.
About the perfume formula she'd spent fifteen years perfecting. The one my stepmother had stolen and sold three days after the funeral. The one that was supposed to be mine.
"I want you to help me get something back," I said.
Kael went still. "What?"
"My mother's formula. The one your pack's fragrance division just bought off my stepfamily."
His expression didn't change. But something shifted behind his eyes. Calculation. Interest.
"You want me to steal from my own company."
"I want you to get me what's already mine," I said. "You need me alive to keep your crown. I need you to help me take back what they stole. That's the deal."
For a long moment he just stared at me. Then, slowly, he smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that made you check for exits.
"You've got teeth," he said. "I didn't expect that."
"Do we have a deal or not?"
He moved closer again. This time I didn't step back. I held my ground, even when his hand came up and his fingers brushed the side of my jaw. His touch was warm. Too warm. And his thumb stopped just under my chin, tilting my face up.
"We have a deal," he said quietly. "But if you try to run, I'll find you. And if you try to expose me before I'm ready, I'll make sure your stepfamily gets every piece of evidence they need to lock you up for fraud."
My heart slammed against my ribs. "You're bluffing."
"Try me."
I shoved his hand away. "Fine. But I want it in writing."
"No paper trail."
"Then I want something that proves you'll keep your word."
Kael's smile widened. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin black phone. Three taps, and he turned the screen toward me.
It was a contract amendment. My name. His name. A single clause that read: *In exchange for continued cooperation, K. Mercer will secure the return of Vale Perfume Formula 47 to L. Vale within sixty days of signing.*
"Sign it," he said.
I took the phone. Read it twice. Then I pressed my thumb to the biometric scanner at the bottom.
The screen flashed green.
And the ring on my finger flared hot.
I gasped and yanked my hand back. The metal had turned from silver to red, and letters were crawling across the surface in a language I didn't recognize. Old. Twisting. Wrong.
Kael grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand into the light.
The words glowed brighter.
Then they shifted. Changed. Became English.
*If the bride dies, the heir loses his crown—and his throat.*
Kael's face went white.
"What the hell is that?" I whispered.
"A blood clause," he said. His voice sounded distant. Hollow. "Someone wrote it into the original contract. If you die before the trial, the council can execute me on the spot."
"Who would—"
"Vera." He let go of my hand. Stepped back. And for the first time since he'd dragged me off that altar, he looked actually afraid. "She must have bribed the contract keeper. She wants me dead, and now she's made sure you're the trigger."
I stared down at the ring. At the red letters still burning against my skin.
"So if someone kills me," I said slowly, "you die too."
Kael looked up. His eyes met mine.
And he said, "Which means I just became the only thing standing between you and everyone who wants me gone."