THE ALPHA’S FORBIDDEN MATE

Chapter 7: SIGN THE PAPERS

It was 9:47pm.

My new room didn’t smell like dust anymore. It smelled like new plastic and the lemon cleaner I’d used on the desk. The $5000 envelope was still on it, unopened. Like if I opened it, the money would disappear.

I’d already done the damage.

`RavenWrites.com` - $12.

New laptop - $850.

Logo designer - $100.

Wi-Fi for the month - $40.

Balance left: $3998.

Four thousand dollars. I’d never seen that many zeros with my name on it.

I should have felt safe. Instead I felt... empty.

The room was quiet. Too quiet. No rain on a broken roof. No rats. Just the hum of the fan.

My phone buzzed.

Bank alert: `+$2000.00 PENDING - NORTH PACK HOLDINGS`

Sender note: `For RavenWrites. Contract.`

I didn’t reply. I archived it.

Then another buzz.

Email. Subject: `Dreame Author Contract Invitation`

My hands shook opening it.

`Dear Author, Congratulations! Your book "I Slept With An Alpha" has met our publishing criteria. 3889 words published. Please reach 5000 words to finalize contract and unlock bonuses...`

I read it three times.

Five thousand. I was 1111 words away.

I took a screenshot. Stared at it.

No one to send it to.

Then another email. `New Job Request - $200`

`Hi Raven, Need 10 product descriptions by Friday. $200. Are you available?`

$200. For words. My words.

I typed back with shaking fingers: `Yes. I can deliver by Thursday.`

Sent.

I put my head in my hands and cried. Not sad tears. The kind that come when you’ve been holding your breath for 20 years and you can finally exhale.

Knock.

Soft. Three times. 11pm.

I knew who it was.

I opened the door but left the chain on.

Drake.

Same black shirt. Same tired eyes. But he was holding a manila folder this time. No grocery bag.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Talk," I said.

He nodded. Didn’t push. "Can I at least come in to talk? It’s about the money."

I unchained the door.

He didn’t sit. He stood by the desk, like he was afraid to touch anything.

"I’m not here about us," he said first thing. "I swear."

"Then what?"

He put the folder on my desk. "Business. My lawyer drafted it. It’s to hire RavenWrites as the official content writer for three North Pack companies. Website copy. Social media. Product descriptions."

I stared at the folder. "How much?"

"$2000 a month. Retainer. Plus per-project fees. For 6 months to start."

My brain short-circuited. "$2000... a month?"

"Yes," he said. "No pack obligations. No mating clauses. I had legal remove all of it. It’s just a freelance contract."

I laughed. Sharp. "Right. And what do you get?"

"Tax write-off," he said quickly. Too quickly. Then softer. "And peace of mind. That you’re okay."

"Lila will—"

"Lila doesn’t run my finances," he cut in. "I do."

Outside, a car horn. Twice.

We both looked at the window. A black SUV. Lila.

She was parked across the street. Watching.

Drake didn’t even flinch. "She can watch," he said. "This is above board."

I opened the folder. 3 pages. Simple English. Payment terms. Deliverables. Termination clause: either party, 30 days notice.

No mention of alphas. No mention of mates. No mention of him.

It was clean.

It was everything I needed.

My pride screamed no.

My empty stomach from 3 weeks ago screamed yes.

"I’ll think about it," I whispered.

"You don’t have to decide now," he said. "But the first payment is already processing. You can send it back if you say no."

He turned to leave.

"Drake," I said.

He stopped.

"Why are you doing this?"

He didn’t turn around. "Because when I was 17 and sleeping in my car, someone gave me a job and asked for nothing. And I swore if I ever got the chance..." he trailed off. "Just sign it or don’t. But eat something, okay?"

He left.

The door clicked.

I sat there for 10 minutes.

Then I picked up a pen.

My hand was shaking.

I signed: `Ravendon K. - RavenWrites`

I took a photo of it and emailed it back to his lawyer.

Then I transferred $2000 from "pending" to "available".

$5998.

In my account.

I looked at the Dreame email again. 1111 words to go.

I opened a new document.

Title: `Chapter 7: Sign The Papers`

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t writing to survive.

I was writing because I chose to.

And somewhere across town, an Alpha was probably staring at his phone, waiting to see if I’d send the money back.

I didn’t. I didn’t have to feel guilty about anything cause I didn't beg for it ,he gave me with his one free will.

I picked up my pen and began to draft my chapter seven for the contract on Dreame , but my mind was constantly remembering Drake.

I tried shaking it off but I couldn't, I don't want to be involved in this werewolf world but I also won't be intimidated by Lila .

After half an hour I drifted to sleep on my book, I woke up the next morning feeling relieved, I'm finally making a name for my self .

I hit send on the email with the signed contract.

My chest felt weird. Light. Like I’d been carrying bricks and someone finally took them off.

The laptop screen glowed in the dark room. `RavenWrites.com` was live now. Simple. Black and white.

`Professional Content Writer | Fiction & Copy`

I made a pot of noodles. Real noodles. Not the $0.25 pack with just seasoning.

I added an egg. And vegetables.

I sat at my desk to eat and opened the Dreame app.

`Current Words: 4760`

`Target for Contract: 5000`

240 to go. I could do that in one sitting.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

`This is Mr. Hale from North Pack Legal. We received your signed contract. First payment will clear in 24 hours. Welcome to the team, Ms. K.`

I read it twice.

`Welcome to the team.`

Three weeks ago I was getting evicted.

Tonight I had a company email address.

Another buzz. Drake.

`You good?`

I stared at it. My thumb hovered over the keyboard.

I could say thank you. I could say don’t contact me again. I could say nothing.

I typed: `Contract signed. Thanks for the opportunity.`

Sent.

He replied in 3 seconds: `Proud of you, Raven.`

I put the phone face down.

Opened a new doc.

`Chapter 8: The First Deadline`

I started typing.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t writing to escape my life.

I was writing to build it.

And the words came easy.