The pen felt heavier than a sword.
Aria Clarke stared at the thick ivory paper lying across the mahogany desk.
Twenty-three clauses, three blank signature lines—and one empty chair waiting for him.
"Sign, and your father's life-support machine keeps running for another year."
Step-mother Catherine's voice was silk soaked in venom. "Refuse, and I pull the plug tonight."
Aria's fingers trembled. The hospital bill was 400,000 dollars—money the Clarkes no longer had after their company crashed.
Catherine had found a buyer: the Nightray Pack, aristocratic werewolves who ruled the northern provinces with claws of steel and bank accounts fatter than the national debt.
They wanted a bride. They got Aria—because his sweet Omega half-sister, Bella, was "too precious" to be sacrificed.
"Why me?" he whispered. "I'm… male."
Catherine smiled, teeth too white. "The contract doesn't specify gender. It only demands 'a Clarke-bodied virgin'. Congratulations, you're twenty-one and untouched. Frankly, darling, I checked."
Heat crawled up Aria's neck. Behind him, two pack enforcers—suits stretched over lupine muscle—blocked the only exit.
The message was clear: sign, or disappear into the snow-choked forest tonight.
He grabbed the pen.
Ink scratched across paper. Aria Clarke.
The moment the last letter landed, Catherine snatched the contract, slid it into a titanium briefcase, and snapped it shut like a coffin lid.
"Wedding's at midnight. Try to look… fertile." She swept out, heels clicking a victory march.
The room spun. Aria pressed his palms into the cool wood, sucking air that suddenly tasted of copper and pine.
Fertile? He was a scholarship student who still carried his lunch in a Pokémon tin.
And fertile implied… children. With a werewolf.
A male werewolf.
His phone buzzed—hospital notification:
[Life-support extension approved. Sponsor: Nightray Industries.]
Relief punched through the panic. Dad lived.
That was all that mattered.
Until the doors opened again.
A man stepped in, taller than the chandelier, coat black as midnight oil.
Silver hair, slicked back cruelly, framed cheekbones sharp enough to slice moonlight.
But it was the eyes that froze Aria—storm-grey, glowing faintly, as if lightning caged behind glass.
Lucien Nightray.
The Alpha who never smiled. Rumor said he'd torn out the throat of his last fiancée when she tried to kiss him. Rumor also said his right leg had been mangled in the Last Border War, leaving him impotent and half-mad.
Aria's heartbeat rabbit-thumped.
Run. Scream. Do something.
Lucien inhaled—and every light in the hall flickered.
The Alpha's pupils dilated into vertical slits. "You…"
His voice was gravel soaked in aged whiskey.
Another breath. Lucien's knuckles cracked as fists clenched. "Your scent—"
Aria instinctively stepped back. "I-I showered."
Wrong answer. Lucien moved—no, blurred—until he was a breath away. Pine, snow, and something darker, metallic, flooded Aria's lungs.
The Alpha leaned down, nose brushing the hollow beneath Aria's ear.
A low growl vibrated through Aria's ribs. "Mate."
The word detonated like a grenade.
"Impossible." Lucien sounded as if he were arguing with the moon. "You're human."
Yet his hand rose, fingers trembling, to trace the line of Aria's jaw with the reverence of a prayer.
Aria's skin ignited. Every nerve ending screamed: Danger. Desire. Run. Stay.
He jerked away. "Mr. Nightray, this is a business arrangement. One year. Then divorce."
He fumbled for the contract, but Catherine had taken every copy.
Lucien's gaze snapped to the empty desk, then back to Aria. Something feral sharpened his features. "Divorce?"
The Alpha laughed—short, ugly. "Fate doesn't issue receipts, little one."
Aria lifted his chin, hiding terror behind sarcasm. "Great. I'm married to a poetic psychopath."
Lucien's lip curled, revealing a canine too sharp to be human. "Poetic? I prefer accurate. You are mine. Body, soul, and everything between."
Thunder boomed outside, as if the sky itself agreed.
Lucien offered his arm—old-world courtesy wrapped in predator's patience. "Shall we, Mrs. Nightray?"
"I'm male," Aria snapped.
"Then Mr. Nightray," the Alpha purred, enjoying the taste. "Either way, the world will know you belong to me before dawn."
Aria stared at the proffered elbow. Taking it felt like slipping a collar around his own throat.
Not taking it… He glanced at the enforcers still blocking the door.
No choice.
He hooked his fingers through Lucien's sleeve. Heat seared through wool.
The Alpha's eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat—pure bliss—then snapped open, glowing like twin moons.
"Let's consummate our bargain."
Aria's stomach flipped. "Consummate?"
Lucien's smile was all teeth. "Relax. I don't force. I seduce. By sunrise you'll beg for my bite."
He led Aria down corridors lined with portraits whose eyes seemed to follow.
Every step echoed like a countdown.
At the grand double doors, Lucien paused. "Last chance to run, little mate."
Aria's voice cracked. "If I run, my father dies."
"And if you stay…" The Alpha brushed a kiss to Aria's knuckles—soft, obscene. "You'll never breathe again without tasting me."
The doors swung open to reveal a candle-lit bedroom the size of a cathedral.
A single red ribbon lay across the black silk sheets—tie me, it whispered.
Aria's heart pounded so hard he tasted blood.
Lucien released him, walking to the window where snow whispered against glass.
With his back turned, the Alpha spoke quietly. "I was prepared to hate the stranger who dared sign my name. But the Moon played her cruelest joke—she sent you."
He turned, eyes glowing. "I won't let you go. Not in a year. Not ever."
Aria swallowed. "Then we both lose, because I don't believe in forever."
Lucien's answer was a slow, predatory smile. "I have twelve months to teach you. Starting tonight."
He snapped his fingers. The lights died.
In the darkness, two glowing eyes advanced.
Aria's back hit the door—trapped between cold wood and hotter flesh.
A breath fanned his lips. "Sleep now, little mate. Tomorrow, the hunt begins."
Somewhere outside, a wolf howled—long, triumphant.
Aria squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if he'd just saved his father…
…or sold his soul to the wolf who would own it forever.