Chapter 4 · The Alpha's Wrong Contract Bride - Chapter 4: Her Blood Shuts His Wolf Up

She doesn't wait for an answer. Just drags me down the hall like I'm cargo. My palm's still bleeding through the kitchen towel. The moon-ring hums against my finger, warm and wrong.

The study door is already open. Inside, Kael's hunched over his desk, both hands flat on the wood. His shoulders are locked. His breathing's too loud.

"Sir," the housekeeper says. "I brought her."

Kael doesn't look up. "Get out."

She leaves. Fast.

I stay in the doorway. "You planning to explain what just happened downstairs, or do I guess?"

"Close the door."

"No."

His head snaps up. His eyes aren't right. Too bright. The gold's bleeding into the white. "Close the door, Lena."

I step in and kick it shut with my heel. "You look like hell."

"Come here."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

He shoves off the desk and crosses the room in three strides. Before I can back up, he's got my wrist in his hand, the one with the cut. His grip's careful. Too careful. Like he's holding onto something that might explode.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up for ten seconds."

He presses his thumb against my palm, right over the wound. The blood smears between our skin. His breathing slows. The gold in his eyes fades, just a little.

I yank my hand back. "You want to tell me what the hell that was?"

"Your blood."

"Yeah, I noticed. You got a taste for it or something?"

He turns away, runs a hand through his hair. "It stops the shift."

"The what?"

"The wolf. When it comes up too fast, I can't always pull it back. Your blood calms it down."

I stare at him. "That's why you dragged me up here? To use me like some kind of prescription?"

"I didn't drag you. Mrs. Lang did."

"Semantics."

He faces me again. The gold's almost gone now. He looks tired. Human. "The moon-ring bonds us. Your blood's tied to mine. When the shift gets unstable, you're the only thing that works."

"Works for what? Keeping you from turning into a monster in the middle of your own house?"

"Yes."

The word lands flat. No excuse. No spin.

I wrap the towel tighter around my hand. "So what happens if I'm not around? You just lose it and eat the help?"

"I go to the basement and chain myself to the wall until it passes."

He says it like it's normal. Like he's talking about taking an aspirin.

"Jesus."

"It's not your problem."

"You made it my problem when you shoved that ring on my finger."

He doesn't argue. Just leans back against the desk and watches me. "You activated the hidden clause. What did you see?"

"My mother's voice. A warning."

"About what?"

"She told me not to trust the contract. That someone changed it after she signed."

Kael goes still. "Your mother had a moon-ring?"

"I don't know. Maybe. She worked for your family, didn't she?"

"Not directly. She supplied perfumes for pack events. High-end custom work."

"And you never met her."

"Once. Maybe twice. I was young."

I step closer. "Then why does her voice show up in a contract clause tied to my blood?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

His jaw tightens. "I'm not."

"Then guess."

"Lena."

"Guess, Kael."

He exhales hard. "If your mother signed a moon-bond before she died, and someone altered it, that bond could have transferred to you. Blood ties don't break just because the original signer's gone."

"So I inherited her contract."

"Maybe."

"And you had no idea."

"No."

I laugh. It comes out sharp. "You locked a ring on me without knowing what it was tied to. That's real smart."

"I needed a bride. You were there. The ring accepted you. I didn't have time to run a full blood trace."

"Why not?"

"Because the trial's in two weeks, and if I show up without a bonded mate, the pack council strips my claim and executes me for unstable bloodline."

The room goes quiet. I can hear the clock on the wall ticking.

"Executes you," I repeat.

"Yes."

"For what? Shifting too hard?"

"For being a threat. My father's line has a mutation. Every third generation, the wolf gets stronger. Too strong. If I can't prove I've got control, they put me down before I become a problem."

"And the ring proves control."

"The bond does. It stabilizes the shift. Makes me viable."

I press my thumb against the cut on my palm. The sting keeps me focused. "So you used me."

"Yes."

"And if I walk out right now?"

"You can't. The bond's locked for thirty days. After that, you're free to file for severance."

"Thirty days."

"Yes."

"And if you die before then?"

"The bond breaks. You go home."

I study his face. He's not joking. Not trying to scare me. Just laying it out.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He pushes off the desk and walks to the window. "Because you're going to find out anyway. And I'd rather you hear it from me than from Vera at the next pack dinner."

"Vera. Your ex."

"She's not my ex. We were engaged. She broke it."

"Why?"

"She found out about the mutation. Didn't want to risk being bonded to someone who might lose control and kill her."

"Smart girl."

He glances back at me. "You're still here."

"I'm contractually stuck here."

"You could run. Plenty of people have tried to break a moon-bond before."

"And?"

"Most of them died. The bond doesn't like being severed early."

I walk over to the desk and sit on the edge. My legs are tired. My hand hurts. "You're just full of good news."

"You asked."

"Yeah. I did."

He turns around fully, crosses his arms. "What do you want, Lena?"

"I want my mother's formula back. I want to know who killed her. And I want to know what the hell she signed that ended up on my finger."

"Then we work together."

"Why would you help me?"

"Because if someone altered your mother's contract, they altered mine too. And I need to know who's playing with pack law before I walk into that trial."

I stand up. "Fine. But I'm not your pet blood bag. You need me to calm your wolf, you ask first."

"Agreed."

"And I get full access to any records tied to my mother."

"Agreed."

"And you tell me the truth. No more convenient gaps."

He hesitates. Then nods. "Agreed."

I hold out my hand. The cut's still visible through the towel. "Shake on it."

He looks at my hand, then at my face. "You don't trust a verbal deal?"

"Not from a wolf."

He almost smiles. Almost. Then he takes my hand, careful around the wound, and shakes once. His palm's warm. Rough. When he lets go, the moon-ring flares cold against my skin.

"There's a records room in the east wing," he says. "Third floor. Mrs. Lang has the key."

"I'll start there."

"Lena."

I stop at the door. "What?"

"Don't go alone. Some of those files are warded. If you're not cleared, they'll burn."

"Burn."

"Wolf magic. Old contracts don't like being touched by the wrong bloodline."

I turn the knob. "Then you're coming with me."

"Tomorrow. After the council meeting."

"Fine."

I pull the door open and step into the hall. My hand's throbbing. The ring's still cold. I'm halfway to my room when I remember the envelope my mother left me. The one I shoved in my bag before the wedding.

I dig it out. Rip it open.

Inside, there's a single folded page. My mother's handwriting. A formula, written in her shorthand. I can barely read it. But at the bottom, in clean print, there's something else.

A summons.

Wolf-trial court. Northbridge pack council. Scheduled for fifteen years ago.

The name on the summons isn't my mother's.

It's mine.