Contract Mate: The Rejected Luna and Her Cursed Alpha.

Chapter 08: Miss Valmor.

The sound of high heels clicking across the conference room floor snapped Mia back to reality. Once again, she was at Tomas’s company, playing along with this ridiculous charade of finding him a fake mate—and once again that week, she was hit with the overwhelming feeling that she didn’t belong there.

For God’s sake, what part of “stay away from Tomas” had her brain—and the universe—failed to understand?

The truth was, helping Tomas with this nonsense had never been part of Mia’s plan for the morning. Not that she had any real plans. After her terrifying run-in with the beast the night before, she’d spent the whole night wide awake, trying to figure out a way to get out of there before she ended up in even deeper trouble.

But then morning came, and Amélia and Daniel had gone out for some kind of special breakfast—probably an attempt at reconciliation—leaving Mia alone when the doorbell rang…

She’d nearly had a heart attack when she opened the door and found Tomas standing there. For a split second, she thought maybe he knew everything. And then… well, she wasn’t sure what would come next. Would he finally reject her to her face? Ask her to keep quiet so it wouldn’t ruin his plans? Or just flat-out not believe her?

Either way, what actually happened was that Mia got so flustered Tomas immediately picked up on the fact something was off. And when he tried to come closer, wearing that fake good-guy expression, she started scanning his face for any sign he already knew the truth. She just needed to make sure she was still in control.

Which is how, just minutes later, she’d ended up in his car, headed to the company to help him with more interviews—because Amélia was too busy making up with her boyfriend, and Mia had this almost primal need to prove nothing between her and Tomas had changed.

It didn’t take long for her to realize nothing had really changed at all. Tomas was still taking every chance to throw flirty comments and looks her way, and she was still getting herself involved in things she had no business being part of.

God, sometimes Mia seriously didn’t understand how she kept getting herself tangled up in this pack’s drama over and over again.

And now, here she was again, watching the sixth candidate of the day strut into the room like she owned the place. The woman acted like everything in there belonged to her—from the leather chairs lining the long table, to the expensive artwork on the walls, to the so-called personal assistant job, and especially the man sitting at the head of the table.

Mia glanced down at the file to check the woman’s name. Íris Valmor. Daughter of one of the Akello family’s most unpredictable political allies. Everything about Íris screamed money—from her silky, perfectly styled hair to her white gold jewelry to her designer heels.

It felt odd, seeing someone so visibly wealthy applying for a personal assistant job. Her tailored suit and Prada handbag made it pretty obvious she didn’t need a position like this—let alone feel the need to compete like it was some kind of prize. But one look at the way she walked, the sway of her hips, and it was clear the real prize in her eyes wasn’t the assistant role. It was Tomas.

Just perfect, Mia thought, adjusting the papers in front of her and doing her best not to keep glancing at Tomas the way she had all morning. Sure, things seemed normal between them now, and the beast had promised not to tell Tomas about their little encounter the night before. But seriously, how was she supposed to trust the word of a creature—or spirit, or whatever the hell it was—that could take over someone’s body without permission?

“Miss Valmor,” Tomas began in his usual neutral tone, drawing Mia’s eyes back to him. Despite his composed CEO demeanor, something in the set of his shoulders gave away a tension that hadn’t been there with the last candidate. “Thank you for coming. I hope the trip was pleasant.”

“Oh, definitely,” Íris replied, flashing a smile as she tossed her red hair over her shoulder. “You know how I’ve always enjoyed being close to you, Tomas.”

Mia narrowed her eyes before she could stop herself. Not that she had any right to care, but something about the whole exchange felt off. Tomas was tense, and every word out of Íris’s mouth sounded like it carried a hidden message.

None of this is your business, Mia reminded herself, returning to typing the interview notes. Íris was just another dazzled candidate, another woman acting like this was some kind of matchmaking reality show.

And Mia didn’t care. Really. But God, if she had to sit through one more round of this crap today, she just might throw her laptop out the window.

“We can start with the basics,” Mia murmured, her eyes still fixed on the screen as she clung to what little patience she had left. “Family background, interests, goals for the position…”

Íris glanced at her then, like she’d just noticed Mia was in the room. “Oh, right. The… secretary.”

“Friend doing Tomas a favor,” Mia corrected, her tone cool. Not that she was actually Tomas’s friend, but it was the simplest explanation.

Íris gave her a sweet, mocking little smile. Her green eyes sparkled with something that reminded Mia of a snake ready to strike. “How sweet. Must be quite an intimate position,” she said, briefly inspecting her red-painted nails, her voice thick with syrupy insinuations. “Being so close to an alpha like Tomas… I bet you know every one of his preferences.”

Mia clenched her jaw, feeling her blood start to heat. Patience had never been her strong suit, and lately, it seemed like every candidate Tomas interviewed had some special talent for getting under her skin. But Íris? She was on a whole different level. She wasn’t even trying to hide that she was pushing Mia’s buttons—and it was working.

“I know enough to say he doesn’t like fake people,” Mia shot back, her tone sharp and unfiltered, “and he really doesn’t like anyone who throws themselves at him.”

A sharp silence fell over the room, making Mia painfully aware that maybe—just maybe—she’d just crossed a line with someone Tomas had clearly known way longer than this interview.

She looked up slowly, and before she could even gauge Iris’s reaction, she saw Tomas staring at her. For a moment, Mia thought he was going to scold her, maybe launch into some speech about knowing her place, about how she was standing in front of someone important within the Akello clan—yada yada yada.

But instead, he turned to Iris with a half-smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

“If you want to continue the interview, I suggest you treat my friends with respect, Miss Valmor.” His voice was cool, his expression calm, but Mia knew him well enough to understand that meant nothing. Tomas leaned back in his chair, falling into that usual king-of-the-world posture he wore around the office. “Mia’s here because I trust her. Because she knows me better than anyone else on that list.”

Then he turned to Mia, the corner of his mouth lifting into a hint of a smile. “You want to keep going with her interview, or should I show her the door?”

Mia blinked once, holding back the urge to ask what the hell he was doing. Had he forgotten that the stunning, spiteful redhead sitting in front of them was the daughter of one of his family’s most important political allies?

“It was just a joke,” Iris cut in with a forced smile. “I’m here to cooperate, Tomas.”

“You heard her,” Mia added when he just kept looking at her, waiting for her to say something. God, why wouldn’t he stop? Every second under his gaze reminded her of the way the beast had looked at her the night before. “Let her finish the interview.”

Tomas nodded, but his fingers tapped against the desk with a restless rhythm. Mia forced herself to keep typing as the interview resumed, though the air felt heavier now, charged with something she couldn’t quite name.

A strange feeling crept over her—unease, maybe. Something wasn’t right. But what? Was it Iris and her smug attitude?

Mia glanced up just in time to catch the woman shooting her a disdainful look, then shifting her gaze to Tomas just as—

His eyes were darker.

Mia felt it the moment their eyes met. A chill ran down her spine. She knew that darkness—it meant the beast was close. Maybe watching through his eyes. Maybe angry at someone disrespecting Mia when she supposedly belonged to them.

She looked back at her laptop, her stomach flipping. Crap. This wasn’t good. What if the beast came to the surface now? What kind of information could Tomas access if the creature got too close?

Mia pressed her lips together, trying to stay calm while worst-case scenarios unfolded one after another in her head.

It’s fine, she told herself, automatically reaching for the bracelet on her wrist. She just needed to breathe. Step out for a minute. Regroup. She slid her chair back quietly...

But then the interview ended abruptly.

Tomas stood and motioned to the door with something close to impatience. Iris thanked him with a fake smile that barely concealed how pissed she looked and walked out, her expensive perfume lingering in the air like poison.

As the door clicked shut, Mia sank deeper into her chair, typing even though she couldn’t see the words on the screen.

"You're acting weird this morning," Tomas said suddenly, his voice low and steady.

Mia didn’t respond. Her fingers just kept tapping at the keyboard, harder now. She wasn’t even sure if she was typing actual words anymore or just filling the document with nonsense. All she could focus on was the awful feeling that if she looked up, she’d meet the beast’s gaze—or worse, that Tomas might see the truth in hers.

"Did I do something?" he went on, circling the desk and leaning back against it, right next to her.

She let out a humorless laugh. "No, Tomas. You didn’t do anything."

Nothing she could actually say out loud, at least.

"Listen, if something about the pack is bothering you, you can talk to me and—"

Thankfully, his sentence was cut off by a soft knock on the door. Before Tomas could say anything, a gray-haired, stern-eyed man in a suit strode into the room.

"Mr. Akello, your parents are requesting your presence for lunch." Despite the words, his tone sounded more like a command than an invitation.

Tomas straightened up, shoulders tense. "I’m sorry, but I’m in the middle of—"

"Turning down your parents so bluntly isn’t exactly a wise move, considering the political future you’re aiming for within this pack, is it?" the man interrupted, cool and composed. The warning in his voice was barely veiled.

Mia sat up straighter in her chair, not liking any of this. She might not be Tomas’s biggest fan, but if there were people she despised more than him, it was definitely his parents.

"Fine. Tell them I’ll be there in twenty minutes," Tomas muttered, his expression unreadable even as tension bled from every line of his body.

Mia stayed quiet as the man left. She kept telling herself it wasn’t her business—but the second the door clicked shut, the words slipped out:

"What did he mean by ‘the political future you’re aiming for within this pack’?"

"Nothing, Mia. He didn’t mean anything." Tomas loosened his tie and dropped back into the chair.

She looked down at her laptop again, but her mind was racing. She had a pretty good idea what that meant—and it probably had something to do with the alliance Tomas had been trying to form with the rebels.

"You can’t let them force you into things like this." The words slipped out again before she could stop them.

Tomas gave her a bitter smile. "Well, if it’s any consolation, having lunch with them is the least horrible thing they force me to do."

"What does that even mean?" She frowned, watching him adjust his suit as he rounded the desk. He shrugged.

"Why do you think I’m going along with this whole fake mate contract thing?" He turned toward the window, jaw clenched. "I hate all of this, but my parents want me to have a mate. I mean, in the proud and glorious Akello history, no alpha has ever taken power without a Luna by his side."

"You could try finding a mate the right way," Mia said, rising to her feet.

"And what’s the right way?" Tomas turned back to face her.

"Meeting someone. Falling in love..."

He locked eyes with her, and this time, there was no darkness behind them. Just those pale irises, calm and almost hypnotic. But instead of answering, he just stood there... staring.

"I want you to come to lunch with me." He slid his hands into his pockets.

Mia searched his face for that usual, annoying smirk he always wore when he was trying to get under her skin—but he was serious. He just stood there, watching her.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Do you honestly think I’d go have lunch with your parents for any reason in this world?" She shook her head, laughing at how ridiculous that sounded. "Seriously, just spending the morning here with you was more Akello than I can handle for an entire month."

She turned away, grabbing her bag. This was the perfect moment to leave.

"They're going to talk about the rebels."

Tomas's words made her pause halfway to the door.

"Maybe it’s not a bad idea to have you there. You are a born rebel, after all—it might help to hear what they have to say."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" she asked, still facing the door. She really didn’t like the idea of hearing “what they have to say” when it came to the Akellos. They’d already agreed to the deal that was supposed to protect the rebels, hadn’t they? For God’s sake, they couldn’t possibly backtrack now—not when the rebels were still recovering, more vulnerable than ever. Not when the alliance with the Akellos was the only thing keeping them out of the hands of that traditionalist clan that hunted them like animals.

"Come with me, and you’ll understand exactly what I mean." Tomas walked past her, heading for the door. "But, like always, the choice is yours."

He left, shutting the door behind him.

Mia stared at the wooden surface for a moment, her thoughts racing. She pictured the rebels in their new territory, trusting the so-called alliance with the Akellos.

But could anyone really trust an Akello?

"s**t," she muttered, yanking the door open with barely contained frustration—and rushed out after Tomas, straight into that damned lunch.