The Alpha's Contract Luna

Chapter 5

“Your mother wasn't human.”

Nadia stared at Alistair Thorne, waiting for him to take the words back.

He didn't.

She looked at Roman. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No,” Roman said.

“Then I suggest someone explain it before I start calling psychiatrists.”

Alistair's expression barely changed. “I understand this is difficult to accept.”

“You don't understand anything about me.” Nadia folded her arms, mostly to stop her hands from shaking. “You walked into a stranger's home, told me my dead mother wasn't human, and now you're standing there like you've announced the weather.”

“Nadia,” Roman said quietly.

She turned on him. “Don't. You knew something was wrong. You knew what that word meant last night, and you said nothing.”

“I was trying to confirm what I suspected.”

“By letting me think I was losing my mind?”

“I never thought that.”

“Congratulations. You managed to make me feel like it anyway.”

Roman flinched. It was small, almost invisible, but she caught it.

For some reason, that made her angrier.

She had spent years putting her life back together after her father's business collapsed. She had worked late, taken cases nobody else wanted, and learned to stretch every dollar until it practically begged for mercy. She hadn't come this far to discover that the people around her had been keeping secrets about her own family.

Alistair cleared his throat.

“There are matters best discussed at Blackthorn Estate. Away from other ears.”

“Absolutely not,” Nadia replied. “I'm not going anywhere with a man who just informed me that my mother was apparently a different species.”

“It's not a species,” Roman said.

She slowly turned towards him.

“Would you like to try that sentence again?”

He exhaled through his nose.

“I'll explain what I can. But not here.”

“Why? Are the walls listening?”

“Sometimes.”

Nadia stared at him.

Roman looked as though he regretted answering honestly.

“Fine,” she said. “That's one more thing we're adding to the list of questions you owe me.”

She picked up her bag from the console table.

“Where are you going?” Roman asked.

“To work. Unlike some people, I have clients who expect me to show up without a supernatural escort.”

“Nadia, wait.”

She stopped at the door but didn't turn around.

“You have until tonight to decide whether you want to tell me the truth. If I find out you've been lying to me about something that affects my life, this marriage contract won't protect you from a very unpleasant legal dispute.”

Then she walked out.

By ten that morning, Nadia had read the same paragraph in a divorce settlement six times without absorbing a word.

Her office was on the seventeenth floor of a Midtown Manhattan building, wedged between a financial consultancy and a dentist who played jazz loud enough to rattle the corridor. Usually, the familiar routine helped her think.

Today, nothing worked.

Your mother wasn't human.

She rubbed her forehead.

“Maybe I need sleep,” she muttered.

Her phone rang.

Amara.

Nadia answered. “Before you ask, no, I haven't murdered my fiancé.”

“That's reassuring. Why do you sound like you're about to?”

“Because apparently my life has become a terrible television series.”

“What happened?”

Nadia glanced at the glass wall of her office. Her assistant was on a call, and the corridor was quiet.

“I met someone from Roman's family. He told me my mother wasn't human.”

Silence.

Then Amara said, “I'm sorry. What?”

“Exactly.”

“Is Roman involved?”

“He's involved in everything, which is becoming deeply irritating.”

“Nadia, are you safe?”

The question softened something in her chest.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I don't know, Amara. A man showed up at the penthouse, started talking about a pack council, and acted as though my mother had been hiding a second life. Roman looked like he wanted to put the entire building on lockdown.”

Amara went quiet.

“Come stay with me,” she said. “At least for tonight.”

Nadia considered it. The thought of her friend's familiar apartment, takeout containers on the coffee table, and their usual arguments over bad television was suddenly very appealing.

“I might take you up on that.”

“Good. And Nadia?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever this is, you don't have to handle it alone.”

Nadia swallowed.

“Thanks.”

After they hung up, she sat for another minute before opening her laptop. Her mother's old records had never been particularly complete. Nadia had always assumed that was because her mother had kept her private life private.

Now she wondered what else had been left out.

She searched the surname Alistair had mentioned.

Mooncrest.

Nothing useful appeared. A few unrelated results, an abandoned website, and a reference to a family estate somewhere in upstate New York.

She clicked the last result.

The page was gone.

Nadia leaned back in her chair.

“Well,” she said to the empty office. “That's not suspicious at all.”

Roman spent the morning dealing with two problems.

The first was a board meeting about the Vanguard merger. The second was the fact that his future wife had left the penthouse furious, and he couldn't blame her.

He had built his life around controlling what people knew about him. As Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack, secrecy wasn't simply a preference. It was a matter of survival.

But Nadia had a right to know what she was walking into.

He should have told her sooner.

Darius entered his office without knocking.

“You look terrible.”

Roman didn't look up from his laptop. “Good morning to you too.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Alistair did.”

Darius winced. “That's unfortunate.”

“That's one word for it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Tell her the truth.”

“All of it?”

Roman finally looked up.

“I don't know all of it.”

Darius pulled out a chair. “The council will push for her to attend the meeting at Blackthorn Estate. If they believe she's connected to Mooncrest, they'll want answers.”

“They won't question her without me present.”

“You can't threaten every member of the council.”

“Watch me.”

Darius shook his head. “This isn't just about your marriage anymore.”

“I know.”

“And if she's your mate—”

Roman's stare silenced him.

Darius held up his hands. “Fine. We won't use that word.”

“Good.”

“But Ares has already decided.”

Roman turned back to his laptop.

That was the problem. Ares had decided. The silver mark had appeared twice, and Roman's wolf had reacted to Nadia with a certainty he couldn't explain away.

He didn't know whether the bond was real, whether the Mooncrest bloodline had anything to do with it, or what the council would do if they discovered the truth.

But he knew one thing.

He would not let them turn Nadia into a political bargaining chip.

At 6:30 p.m., Nadia returned to the penthouse.

Roman was waiting in the living room. His jacket lay over the back of a chair, and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked tired, which was a small comfort.

She set her bag down.

“You said you'd explain.”

“I will.”

“Start with the part where you tell me what a Blackthorn Pack Council is.”

Roman gestured towards the sofa.

Nadia remained standing.

“I'm more comfortable here.”

He nodded once.

“Fair enough.”

He took a breath.

“My family belongs to a group of people who aren't entirely human. We call ourselves werewolves.”

Nadia stared at him.

Then she laughed.

It wasn't because she found it funny. The alternative was to start screaming, and she wasn't prepared to give him that satisfaction.

“Werewolves,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“The kind that turn into wolves?”

“Yes.”

“Under a full moon?”

“That's mostly a myth.”

“Of course it is. Because why would the supernatural community follow a sensible schedule?”

Roman's mouth twitched, but he didn't smile.

“I know this sounds impossible.”

“Impossible is not the problem. The problem is that you're telling me this after I've agreed to marry you.”

“I should have told you sooner.”

“Yes, you should have.”

He accepted the accusation without arguing.

That unsettled her more than an excuse would have.

“Your mother,” he continued, “may have belonged to an old bloodline called Mooncrest. The records are incomplete, and I don't know what happened to her family.”

“May have?”

“That's what I'm trying to confirm.”

“And the mark on my hand?”

“I don't know exactly what it means.”

Nadia stared at him.

“You expect me to believe you're a werewolf, your family has a secret council, and nobody knows why a silver mark keeps appearing on my skin?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds worse.”

“It is worse.”

For the first time that evening, Roman looked genuinely apologetic.

“I won't pretend I have all the answers. But I won't lie to you about what I know.”

Nadia wanted to believe him. That was the irritating part.

She looked out at Manhattan through the windows. The city was still there, cars moving through the streets, office lights glowing across neighbouring buildings. Nothing had changed outside.

Everything had changed inside.

“I'm not going to run away because you happen to be a werewolf,” she said at last. “But I will leave if you start making decisions for me because you think you know what's best.”

“I understand.”

“And if anyone from your council tries to threaten me, I expect you to tell them where they can put their authority.”

Roman's expression softened.

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

She picked up her bag again.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To Amara's. I need one night where nobody tells me my mother was part of a secret supernatural bloodline.”

“Nadia, the council meeting is tomorrow. I'd prefer you came with me.”

She looked at him.

“Prefer?”

“Yes.”

“That's a much better word than expect.”

He nodded.

“I'll have a car take you wherever you want to go. No security detail unless you ask for one.”

She studied him, searching for the catch.

There wasn't one she could see.

“Thank you,” she said, almost reluctantly.

Roman walked her to the door.

Just before she stepped into the elevator, he spoke again.

“Nadia.”

She turned.

“Whatever you discover about your mother, you didn't choose it. You don't owe the council anything simply because of your blood.”

For once, she had no sarcastic reply ready.

“I'm going to remember you said that.”

“I hope you do.”

The elevator doors closed between them.

Roman remained in the hallway long after she had gone.

Ares stirred beneath his thoughts.

She is angry.

“She has every right to be.”

Bring her home.

Roman looked at the empty elevator.

“She'll come back when she's ready.”

He hoped that was true.

Because tomorrow, Nadia would meet the Blackthorn Pack Council, and the questions surrounding her mother would no longer be his secret to manage.

They would be hers to answer.

And Roman feared the council already knew more than they were willing to admit.