The Alpha Who Signed the Wrong Contract

Chapter 5: The Retrieval

"Explain," I said. "Now."

Dominic pressed a hand to his ribs. The cut had reopened and blood was soaking through his shirt. "The treaty is the agreement between the Kane pack and the Thorne pack. It was signed forty years ago. It defines territory, succession, and what happens if an Alpha's mate is named."

"And me?"

"The treaty has a clause about a mate who is also a trained legal interpreter. She holds the power to declare the treaty valid or void. Without her signature on any amendment, neither pack can make changes."

"So Lucian wants me to void it."

"Lucian wants to rewrite it. He needs the original text and he needs you. You can't be forced to sign. The language says the mate must act voluntarily."

I thought about it. "Which means he needs me to walk in on my own."

"Yes."

"Then he's given me leverage and doesn't know it." I picked up my empty briefcase.

"I'm going to the clubhouse."

"No."

"You said the treaty can't be amended without my signature. That means I'm the only person who can read it and spot whatever he's planning to change. If I'm not there, you'll miss it."

"He'll try to keep you."

"He can't. Not legally, not under the treaty. And if he does, he breaks his own agreement in front of witnesses."

Dominic looked at me for a long moment.

"You've been awake for thirty hours."

"Then we should leave before I think about that."

We went at dusk. Dominic drove, and two vehicles followed us with eight armed pack members. The clubhouse was a converted warehouse on the east side, behind a chain-link fence and a row of parked motorcycles.

A metal sign over the door read THORNE & SONS AUTO. Guards in leather vests opened the gate without a word.

"Remember the plan," I said as the engine cut off. "I talk. You stay quiet. Your people stay outside until I signal."

"What signal?"

"I'll take off my jacket."

"That's a terrible signal."

"It's the one he won't question."

Inside, the main room was a long garage floor with a bar along one wall and a raised platform at the back. Thirty bikers stood around the edges. Lucian sat on the platform in a leather chair with the envelope open on a table in front of him. He rose slowly when he saw me.

"Counselor. You came."

"I came to negotiate. Where's the treaty?"

"On the table."

"I want to see it before I say anything."

He gestured. I walked the length of the room with Dominic half a step behind me, aware of every pair of eyes on my back. At the table, I picked up the treaty. It was four pages, hand-typed, with two signatures at the bottom and a wax seal.

I read it standing up. Lucian watched me read.

"Section six is the succession clause," I said. "Section nine covers mates. You want to amend section nine."

"Very good."

"Your proposed amendment is on the second sheet." I flipped it over. "It gives you equal claim to any mate named under the treaty. Which would make me a shared member of both packs."

"It's reasonable."

"It's coercive. And it's invalid." I tapped the page. "Section twelve requires that any amendment be signed in the presence of both Alphas and witnessed by a neutral third party. You don't have one."

"I don't need one."

"Then you don't have an amendment."

He smiled. "You've been reading for ninety seconds, and you've already found the weakest point. I like that."

"I'm not finished. Section fourteen says any Alpha who takes a named mate by force forfeits his seat." I looked up at him.

"That's what you did when you sent four men to grab me, correct?"

The room went silent. Lucian's smile thinned.

"Be careful," he said.

"I'm quoting your own treaty." I took off my jacket and draped it over the chair beside me.

Behind me, Dominic did not move. Outside, a window shattered, and then another. Boots hit the roof. Gunfire cracked in the back of the warehouse, followed by shouting.

Lucian's men turned. In that second, I grabbed the treaty and the amendment and jammed them into my jacket.

"You bluffed me," Lucian said softly.

"I negotiated. You just didn't notice the difference."

He lunged for me. Dominic got between the two Alphas, and we hit the floor. The room exploded. Pack members from outside poured through the side door, and bikers charged to meet them. Chairs flew. Someone fired a shotgun into the ceiling. Dust and plaster rained down.

I ran toward the exit with the documents pressed against my chest. A biker grabbed my arm and I drove my knee into his groin, then stamped on his instep. He let go.

Behind me, I heard Dominic roar. I turned.

Lucian had a knife. It was a long, curved blade, and he had driven it into Dominic's side, just below the old wound. Dominic stood frozen with his hand over the handle, blood running through his fingers.

"No," I said.

Dominic's men reached him first. Two of them dragged Lucian off and the rest formed a wall. A pack member shouted that the cars were ready. I pushed through them and caught Dominic as his knees buckled.

"Walk," I said. "Walk. Now."

"Sera." His voice was thin. "The blade."

"I know. Move."

We got him into the back seat. I held a folded jacket against the wound, and the blood soaked it in seconds. His skin was gray. The cut on his ribs had not closed since the garage, and this one was not closing either.

"Why isn't it healing?" I asked the driver.

"Silver," he said, eyes on the road. "The blade's silver. It poisons the blood."

I pulled out the treaty and read it by the light from the dash. My hands were steady until I reached section sixteen, which I had skimmed in the clubhouse. It was a single paragraph at the bottom of the last page.

An Alpha wounded by silver may be restored only by the blood of his named mate, freely given.

I read it three times. Dominic's eyes opened and found mine.

"Don't," he whispered. "Not like this. Not because you have to."

"You don't get to decide that," I said, and I took the knife from the driver's belt.