Mated by the fractured alpha

Chapter 3: The Ultimatum

Silas’s pov

The silence in the hall was heavy, thick, and suffocating as it pressed against my eardrums, louder than the screaming had been minutes ago.

The girl, “Kira” who was just so brave minutes ago , stood in front of me trembling, not with a subtle shake but a full-body vibration, and her hands were still clenched into fists with knuckles white as bone.

She smelled like terror, salt, and sweat, but beneath it all was honey and sweet.

It annoyed me, so I stepped back to put

distance between us because the heat radiating from her was distracting.

It distracted the beast inside me, waking up instincts I had buried deep inside of me screaming “mine”.

but no, I shoved the thought down since I wasn't an animal but a strategist.

"You're shaking," I observed as my voice echoed in the empty room.

"I'm cold," she lied.

"You're terrified."

"That too."

She looked up at me with eyes that were brown and ordinary, but there was something in them, a spark and a stubborn refusal to break which was interesting.

I walked to the small table near the throne where Kaelen had left a bottle of whiskey and poured a glass, my hand steady as it always was. I took a sip, the burn was welcomed as it grounded me.

"Do you know why I cleared the room?" I asked, turning back to her.

She swallowed and asked, "To kill me in private?"

I snorted, "If I wanted you dead, you'd be a stain on the floor by now."

"Then why?"

I looked at her,and saw she was small, fragile, and a human; a gust of wind could knock her over, but she had stood between me and her father, grabbed my arm, and looked the Alpha of the Iron Citadel in the eye and said no.

The Council, those old, withered vultures, had been circling for months claiming the Alpha is unstable, sick, and needs a mate to ground him. If I didn't produce a mate soon, they would challenge me and use the Rot as an excuse to tear my pack apart, so I needed a shield and a distraction. Fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had just dropped one in my lap.

"My Council thinks I'm losing my mind," I said bluntly.

Kira blinked, looking confused. "Okay? And that concerns me because...?"

"Because they want to replace me, for they think the Rot makes me weak and that I'm a ticking time bomb."

I took another sip of whiskey before continuing,

"They have given me an ultimatum to take a mate or face a challenge for the throne."

"So get a mate," she said, her voice brittle. "Pick one, as you have a whole pack of wolf-women and surely someone wants the job."

"I don't trust them because they're loyal to the pack, not to me, meaning they would spy and scheme."

I set the glass down with a clink.

"I need someone who has no allies here, someone who is completely dependent on me and has everything to lose."

I looked at her and she went still as her breath hitched.

"Me," she whispered.

"You," I confirmed as I walked toward her, my cane clicking against the stone."You owe me three million dollars which you can't pay and your father can't pay."

"I told you I'd work," she said quickly, "I'll clean, I'll………… ".

"I don't need a maid, Kira, I have fifty," I said, stopping in front of her. "I need a wife."

She stared at me, her mouth opening and then closing before she squeaked,

"A wife?"

"A mate, in title at least."

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I joke?" I didn't, for I never joked.

"Here is the deal," I said, keeping my voice clinical and business-like. "We sign a contract for six months where you play the part of my fated mate, live in my house, attend Council meetings, and look at me with adoration in public."

"And in private?"

"In private, you stay out of my way."

She looked at me like I had grown a second head. "Six months?" she asked.

"Six months, and after that, the Council will back off so I will announce that the bond didn't take or some other lie, then we annul the mating and you go free."

"And the debt?"

"Wiped clean."

She stared at the floor, and I could see gears turning in her head as she was calculating, weighing the horror of being married to a monster against the horror of her father being executed. It wasn't a choice, not really.

"And my dad?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"He lives," I said. "I banish him, but he lives."

She closed her eyes and a tear slipped out, which was weakness, but necessary.

"If I say no?" she asked.

"Then I execute him tonight and you spend the rest of your life in a debtor's prison."

I waited as the silence stretched, watching her struggle and watching her hope die. It was cruel, and I knew it was cruel, but I didn't care because survival was ugly. She opened her eyes, which were wet but the fear was gone, it was replaced by resignation.

"Fine," she said.

One word said so simply, and I felt a knot of tension in my chest loosen.

"Good choice."

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper I had drafted weeks ago with just blank names, and I handed it to her saying,

"Sign it."

She looked at the paper, her hands shaking again. "You had this ready?" she asked, looking up at me with disgust.

"I'm prepared."

"You're a psychopath." she said

"I'm efficient." I repeated after her almost immediately.

She took the paper but didn't read it, she just stared at the signature line. "I have conditions," she said.

I raised a brow. "You're hardly in a position to bargain."

"I'm doing you a favor," she snapped, a flash of that fire returning. "I'm saving your throne, so I have conditions."

I crossed my arms, finding this amusing. "List them."

"One, my dad goes free immediately and I want to watch him walk away."

"Done."

"Two, you don't touch me."

I laughed, a dark, humorless sound. "Don't flatter yourself, little painter, for I have no interest in bedding a human. You're fragile and you'd break."

She flushed with anger or embarrassment before saying, "Good. Three, I want my own room with a lock.

I stared at her, thinking that a lock in a castle full of werewolves who could punch through steel doors was pathetic, yet it was adorable.

"A lock," I repeated. "You think a lock will stop me if I wanted to get in?"

"It's for my peace of mind," she said stubbornly, "I want to know that when I sleep, I'm... safe."

Safe. There was no safety here, not for her and not for me, but if a useless piece of metal made her sign the paper... "Fine," I said, "you get a lock."

"And keys, only for me."

"Fine."

She took a deep breath and looked around. "Do you have a pen?"

I handed her my heavy silver fountain pen, and she took it, her hand lingering over the paper as she looked at me one last time. "I hate you," she whispered.

"I know," I said. "Sign."

She pressed the nib to the paper…..scritch, scratch….. Kira Vance, the ink black and permanent, before handing the paper back to me. It felt heavy as she said, "It's done," looking drained and hollow.

I took the paper, folded it, and put it back in my pocket. "Welcome to the pack, Kira," I said, but she didn't answer, she just hugged herself, looking small and lost in the middle of the Great Hall.

**********

Kira’s pov

I signed my life away with a pen that cost more than my car… scritch, scratch… which was the sound of my freedom dying. I handed the paper back to him, the monster Silas, and he took it with a face that didn't change, showing no triumph or smile, just that cold, clinical satisfaction like he had just balanced a checkbook.

"Welcome to the pack, Kira," he said.

I wanted to scream and I wanted to throw up, but instead, I just stood there hugging myself, trying to keep the pieces of me from falling apart.

"My dad," I said, my voice sounding hollow,

"you promised."

"I keep my word."

He snapped his fingers and the doors opened as Kaelen walked in, looking at me then at Silas.

"Is it done?" Kaelen asked.

"It's done," Silas said.

"Escort Arthur Vance to the southern border, give him a car, and tell him if he returns, he dies."

Kaelen nodded and looked at me with pity in his eyes, which I hated.

"Can I say goodbye?" I asked.

Silas looked at his watch, a frantic, expensive thing on his wrist. "Make it fast. He leaves in ten minutes."

He turned away, dismissing me, so I walked toward the doors with legs that felt like lead. I was mated to him, and the thought made my skin crawl; mated, it sounded so primal and possessive.

"Wait," Silas said.

I stopped, but I didn't turn around.

"Kira."

I looked back and saw he was standing by the throne, looking large and dark, like a shadow cut from the night.

"The lock," he said.

"What?"

"The lock on your door, I'll have it installed tonight."

I stared at him, realizing he was actually doing it. "Why?" I asked. "You said it wouldn't stop you."

He looked at me with silver eyes that were unreadable.

"It won't," he said softly, "but if it lets you sleep... then you can have it."

He turned his back on me and commanded,

"Go,"

so I ran. I ran out of the hall, toward the dungeons and my dad, and all I could think was: What have I done? I had sold myself to the devil, and the devil had just given me a door lock.