Contract Mate: The Rejected Luna and Her Cursed Alpha.

Chapter 03: Just a distraction.

Being back in the Akello pack was pure torture for Tomas. After years of refuge among the rebels, escaping the crushing expectations of his family, here he was again—trapped by the will of people who couldn’t care less about what he wanted. To the Akello, power and status were everything, and having Tomas, a cursed wolf, as their alpha only made them stronger in the eyes of the other clans. So, Tomas would be the alpha. Simple as that.

He’d spent years running precisely because he knew his parents would never allow him to hand over his right to lead. And yet, here he was, wearing the title he despised most.

Over the past few days, Tomas had repeated the same thing to himself, like a mantra: this was for a good cause. He had caved to his family's demands in exchange for an alliance between the Akello and the rebels—their only shot at stopping the traditional clans, especially the Marlon, from attacking the rebels. And yes, he felt proud of doing something for the people who had welcomed him at his lowest, without judgment or conditions. But living in Akello territory felt so suffocating that sometimes, even the rebels' safety didn’t seem worth the sacrifice.

And of course, guilt gnawed at him every time he caught himself thinking that way. Like that morning, as he waited for yet another round of interviews to find a “fake mate,” clinging to the idea that the sacrifice served a purpose—rather than fixating on the torment still ahead.

Tomas didn’t want a mate—real or contracted—just like he didn’t want to be alpha of one of the country’s largest packs. But his family was relentless. Accepting the title wasn’t enough; he needed a Luna. No Akello alpha rose without a mate. Tradition. Always tradition.

So before his family could choose someone for him, Tomas took matters into his own hands. That’s how the absurd—even by his standards—idea of arranging a contracted mate came about. A practical solution: he’d buy himself time, the woman would receive a generous monthly payment, and on paper, everyone would be satisfied.

Finding the right candidate, however, was another matter entirely. There were too many risks in trusting a stranger with such a delicate position, too many factors to weigh, too many reasons to drop the whole thing altogether—especially with Mia sitting beside him during the interviews.

And that, really, was the problem, wasn’t it? Mia—who dulled everything else around her. With her in the room, every other woman—no matter how stunning, charismatic, or interesting—looked like a dim star next to the sun. And that sun, with black hair and a closed-off posture, making no effort to hide how much she didn’t want to be there, was now watching the sixth candidate of the afternoon with barely concealed boredom.

And yet, she was paying more attention to the woman being interviewed than Tomas was—which was saying something, considering he was supposed to be the one invested in all of this.

He forced himself to focus on the candidate in front of him. What was her name again? Ania? Aria? Maria? Didn’t matter. He hadn’t registered half of what she’d said after her “good morning.”

And the blame, as usual, fell squarely on Mia. No matter how hard Tomas tried, as long as she was nearby, his gaze kept drifting back to her. The rest of the world vanished around her—and that was, frankly, infuriating.

Ten years had passed since the disaster that had driven them apart, and still, she managed to distract him like no time had passed at all.

"I appreciate your time." His voice came out calm as the candidate paused, clearly expecting something. "We’ll be in touch once we finish this stage."

He barely noticed her enthusiastic thanks, too distracted by the way Mia twisted a strand of her black hair between her fingers.

When the door clicked shut behind the departing candidate, Tomas slumped back in his chair, dragging a tired hand through his hair as his gaze drifted to the panoramic window of the oversized meeting room.

God, this was just the beginning, and he was already exhausted.

"How many candidates are left?" Mia’s voice cut through the silence like a knife—casual but cold.

Tomas turned before even registering the movement. She wasn’t looking at him—just studying her nails, one leg crossed over the other, revealing an enticing stretch of skin through the slit in her dress.

"I still can’t believe all these women applied for a simple personal assistant job." Amelia’s voice rang with amusement, pulling his attention away from Mia.

"I paid good money to make sure the ad reached the right people." His tone was flat, uninterested—just like he’d been about everything since returning to the pack.

Amelia, in contrast, looked like she was having the time of her life. A hopeless romantic and voracious reader, she had been the only one to support the fake mate idea from the start. Always full of suggestions—including the terrible one of hiring someone familiar. Someone like Mia. Ridiculous. Not because he didn’t want to. Of course he did. He’d love to have Mia by his side, even if only by contract. He’d love a chance to slowly chip away at the wall she kept so firmly between them, to test her limits, to prove that he wasn’t the only one still feeling this thing between them.

But Mia would never agree. And Tomas didn’t need the pain of false hope.

There would never be a chance between them. She had made that crystal clear ever since she’d found out—under the worst circumstances—about the stupid bet that had started it all. The biggest mistake of Tomas’s life. Because, like something out of one of Amelia’s ridiculous romance novels, he’d fallen for Mia right in the middle of the mess.

Yeah.

At first, Mia had just been his best friend’s fun, reckless little sister—the one all the guys wanted to impress. All it took was one dumb bet. One challenge to get her attention. But getting close to her, seeing who she really was... it changed everything. She was different. Amazing. Beautiful, funny, fearless, real... That’s when it spiraled. That’s when he fell—hard and at the worst possible time. And before he could fix it, she found out.

The fallout was catastrophic. He thought she’d never forgive him. And when she finally seemed ready to let him in again, something happened—something he never understood—and she shut him out for good.

Since then, she’d kept him at a careful distance, as if being near him made her skin crawl. And Tomas? Well, he’d never outgrown the childish urge to tease her, to chip away at her cool exterior, to chase any reaction.

Maybe it was pathetic. Probably was. But stopping? Not now. Not when provoking her was the only remotely interesting part of his monotonous new life. Not when, every now and then, he caught glimpses of the cracks in her armor.

“But that’s still a lot of candidates.” Amelia’s brow lifted slightly as she flipped through the stack of résumés.

He shrugged. “The salary’s great.”

“And let’s not forget the ad said they’d be working for the powerful and irresistible Tomas Akello.” Mia rolled her eyes dramatically.

Tomas straightened in his chair, fighting a grin. That eye roll—God, he wanted to see it again, preferably in ways far less innocent.

He cleared his throat, trying to refocus. “Let’s call the next one.”

“Fantastic.” Mia waved toward the door with mock enthusiasm. “Let’s meet the next Miss Enthusiasm.”

But the next candidate was different. Not too chatty, not too cold. Elegant, polished, with an impressive résumé and a captivating smile. Her name was Melanie. She was exactly the type to win over his parents—the kind of woman any man would be proud to have on his arm.

But not him. Looking at her, Tomas couldn’t help but wonder if he ever truly believed this contracted mate idea would work.

This was a disaster waiting to happen. And unless he wanted to lose what little control he had left, he needed to focus.

He would find the right candidate. But not Melanie—because she was too perfect. And no, he wasn’t just making up another excuse to avoid doing what needed to be done.

“We’ll be in touch if you move to the next stage.” His smile was polite, distant.

As soon as she left, he slumped in his chair.

"She’s not the right one," he murmured, just as Mia said,

"She doesn’t fit." Her tone was calm, almost matter-of-fact, like she was stating an undeniable truth.

Tomas’s gaze locked onto hers—automatically, instinctively. And for a moment, he caught something in her guarded expression, a flicker of something he couldn’t quite name.

But then she looked away, slipping behind the usual walls she never let down.

"She doesn’t fit?" Amelia leaned forward, confusion flickering in her eyes as she looked between them.

"Her voice is too high-pitched," Tomas said without thinking, still caught in whatever invisible thread kept pulling his eyes back to Mia.

"She seemed more interested in Tomas than in the job." Mia’s voice came soft, almost like she hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud.

Amelia said something else, but Tomas wasn’t listening anymore. His focus had returned to Mia, to the way she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her fingers.

This time, he didn’t look away. He let himself watch her, taking in every detail as he leaned back into the leather chair that had felt like a trap from the moment those damn interviews began.

And then, for a moment, he wondered how hard it would be to convince Mia to keep helping with them. Maybe it was madness—definitely madness—considering how effortlessly she outshined every candidate. But if he had to live in that familial prison, if he really had to go through with all of it, then at least he could enjoy the small pleasure of having Mia nearby. Of annoying her in that strange hobby he’d developed over the years.

Provoking her with glances. Taking advantage of the rare opportunities she unknowingly handed him.

Just a distraction. Nothing more.

Or maybe just another excuse to keep orbiting the only sun that—no matter how hard he tried—never stopped pulling him in.