The Alpha's Contract Luna

Chapter 13

Nadia didn't sleep that night.

She tried. She really did.

But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the broken floor beneath the Mooncrest sanctuary. She heard the Hollow Alpha calling her name, and she remembered how close she'd come to walking straight into the darkness.

Then there was her mother's voice.

You opened the door, Nadia.

By three in the morning, she'd given up on sleep and settled on the sofa in her private suite, wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The ancient record lay on the coffee table in front of her.

The silver letters had disappeared.

She'd checked three times.

ELENA MOONCREST's name was gone, along with the sentence beneath it. The page looked ordinary again, except for a faint indentation where the words had appeared.

Nadia rubbed her eyes.

“I'm either losing my mind,” she muttered, “or this family has the worst communication skills in history.”

A knock came at the door.

She reached for the small lamp beside her and switched it on.

“Who is it?”

“Roman.”

Of course.

She glanced at the clock. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you knocking on my door?”

“Because I have something you need to see.”

Nadia considered telling him to leave. Instead, she unlocked the door but kept one hand on it.

Roman stood in the hallway wearing black trousers and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked like he'd been awake as long as she had.

His gaze moved over her face.

“You haven't slept.”

“Neither have you.”

“I wasn't the one who nearly walked into a supernatural prison.”

“That's true. You only brought me there.”

His mouth tightened. “Fair point.”

She stepped aside.

“Come in. But if this is another ancient document that explains absolutely nothing, I'm charging you a consultation fee.”

“I'll pay it.”

“That's not the point.”

“I know.”

He entered and placed a thin folder beside the old record.

Nadia shut the door.

“What is it?”

“Something my father left behind. Darius found it in a locked cabinet at the estate.”

She opened the folder.

Inside were several handwritten pages, a faded photograph, and a small envelope with her mother's name on it.

Nadia forgot about the hour.

She picked up the photograph first.

It showed a younger Victor Veyne standing beside Elena Mooncrest. Her mother looked much as Nadia remembered her from childhood photographs, except that her hair was longer and her expression was serious.

Between them stood a boy who looked about ten years old.

Roman.

Nadia turned the photograph over.

On the back, in her mother's handwriting, were the words:

The first successful bond restoration. Victor's son is stronger than we expected.

She looked up.

“What does this mean?”

Roman stared at the photograph. “I was sick when I was a child. My father took me somewhere for treatment. I remember a woman who visited me, but I was too young to understand who she was.”

“Elena?”

“I think so.”

Nadia studied the picture again. “Why would my mother be involved in your treatment?”

“That's what I intend to find out.”

She returned to the folder and began reading the first page.

The handwriting was Roman's father's. His words were careful, with several lines crossed out and rewritten.

Mooncrest descendants possess no wolf of their own. Their gift is older than the packs. They can perceive the bond between a wolf and its chosen human, sense damage to that bond, and, under specific conditions, help restore what has been broken.

Nadia read the paragraph twice.

“So I'm not a werewolf.”

“No.”

“I'm not secretly going to grow fur and start chasing squirrels around Central Park?”

Roman's expression remained serious.

“I would advise against making that assumption about yourself.”

She stared at him.

“You're joking.”

“I'm trying.”

Against her better judgment, she smiled.

It faded as she returned to the page.

“If Mooncrest people can restore bonds, why was the council so interested in me?”

Roman pulled a chair closer and sat opposite her.

“Because the Hollow Alpha's bond was destroyed. If your bloodline really can repair it, the council may believe you're the key to keeping him imprisoned—or controlling what happens when he gets out.”

“Those are two very different things.”

“Yes.”

“And you think they want to use me.”

“I think some of them would.”

The honesty in his voice unsettled her.

Nadia set the page down.

“Explain something to me. What exactly is a bond? I know you're a werewolf, and I know Ares keeps calling me your mate. But I don't understand what any of that means beyond the fact that your wolf seems to have opinions about my personal life.”

Roman leaned back.

“A wolf and its human share one body. Most of the time, we're in agreement. Sometimes we're not. A mate bond is different. It's a connection between two people that neither money nor authority can create.”

“And you think we have one?”

“Ares does.”

“Do you?”

Roman looked at her for a long moment.

“I think something connects us. I don't know enough about your bloodline to tell you exactly what it is.”

That answer was better than a declaration of ownership. Nadia appreciated that he hadn't pretended certainty just to make her feel cornered.

“So the mark?”

“Your Mooncrest mark. It appears when your gift reacts to something connected to the old bonds. It responded to me when we first shook hands. It reacted again at the sanctuary.”

“Can I control it?”

“Not yet.”

“Can I learn?”

“I believe so.”

She folded her arms. “Then that's what we're going to work on. I refuse to spend the next six months being dragged from one creepy historical site to another because everyone else knows more about my life than I do.”

Roman's mouth twitched.

“Agreed.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That was suspiciously easy.”

“I'd prefer you alive, informed, and capable of defending yourself.”

“Good. We finally agree on something.”

He pushed the envelope toward her.

“This was addressed to you.”

Nadia's fingers hovered over it.

Her mother's name was written across the front, followed by Nadia's full name in smaller letters.

She opened it carefully.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

My Nadia,

If you are reading this, then the mark has awakened, and the truth can no longer remain hidden.

You are not a wolf, and you are not a weapon. You are a keeper. Your gift allows you to hear what a broken bond remembers. Sometimes you may sense a wolf's pain before its own human understands it. Sometimes you may see fragments of memories that do not belong to you.

But listen carefully. You cannot command another wolf. You cannot force a bond to form, and you must never allow anyone to use your blood to bind a wolf against its will.

The Mooncrest gift works through choice. The moment choice is taken away, the gift becomes something else.

Nadia stopped reading.

Her throat had tightened.

She hadn't seen her mother in years. She had spent most of her adult life telling herself that Elena had left because she wanted a different life. It had been easier than admitting she had no idea why her mother had disappeared.

Now, a letter was telling her that the absence had been connected to a secret world she hadn't even known existed.

She continued.

The Hollow Alpha was once a protector. Someone severed his mate bond and used the pain to turn his wolf against him. The council claims he became a monster because he was weak. That is a lie.

The truth is hidden in the first record. If the prison opens, find out who broke the bond before you attempt to restore it.

And Nadia, if Roman Veyne is with you, remember this: his father helped me protect you, but the Veyne family has its own history with the Hollow Alpha. Trust what Roman does, not what his name promises.

The letter ended there.

Nadia lowered it.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the hum of the heating system.

“Your father knew my mother,” she said.

“Yes.”

“He helped hide me.”

“Apparently.”

“And she still warned me not to trust your family's name.”

Roman looked at the photograph again.

“I can't blame her.”

Nadia searched his face. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course it does. But she had reasons for writing it. I won't ask you to ignore them just because I happen to be her daughter's husband.”

The word husband hung between them.

Their wedding was still days away. The contract was signed, the arrangements were being made, and the world outside their strange little arrangement had no idea how much had changed.

Nadia looked down at her left hand.

The silver crescent was visible beneath her skin.

She pressed a finger against it.

A sudden warmth spread through her palm.

Then she heard something.

Not a voice this time. A feeling. A rush of fear, followed by grief so deep it made her chest ache.

For one brief instant, she saw a snowy forest beneath a blood-red moon. A huge grey wolf stood alone in the clearing. Silver chains wrapped around its legs, and another wolf lay motionless in the snow.

The grey wolf lifted its head.

Its eyes were full of pain.

Nadia gasped and dropped the letter.

Roman was on his feet immediately.

“Nadia?”

She clutched her wrist. “I saw something.”

“What?”

“A wolf. In the snow. It was chained, and there was another wolf lying beside it.”

Roman went completely still.

“Did you see its eyes?”

“Grey. Almost silver.”

He exchanged a look with Ares, whose presence had suddenly become sharp and alert inside him.

“That was the Hollow Alpha,” Roman said.

“How do you know?”

“Because my father described the same vision in his private notes. He called it the last memory of the broken bond.”

Nadia stared at him.

“I didn't choose to see it.”

“I know.”

“And it hurt.”

His expression softened.

“Then we need to find a way for you to shut it out until you understand how to manage it.”

“Can you help me?”

“I'll try.”

She studied him. “You keep saying that instead of promising me you can fix everything.”

“Because I can't fix everything.”

It was such a simple answer that she didn't know what to say.

Roman picked up the letter and placed it carefully beside the photograph.

“There's something else you should know. Darius found a reference to an old Mooncrest training room beneath the Blackthorn Estate. If your mother was telling the truth about your gift, that may be where we start.”

Nadia exhaled slowly.

“Fine. We investigate the room. We read everything your father left behind. And nobody takes me to another collapsing ruin without telling me what we're walking into.”

“Agreed.”

“And I want Amara involved in my safety arrangements. She's human, she doesn't know any of this, and I'm not going to disappear from her life without an explanation.”

Roman nodded. “We'll work out what to tell her.”

Nadia gave him a tired look. “Carefully. She's going to ask questions.”

“I've met her. I'm aware.”

That drew a small laugh from Nadia, the first one that felt real since they'd returned from the sanctuary.

Roman watched her for a moment, then stood.

“You should try to rest.”

“Are you ordering me to bed?”

“No. I'm suggesting it.”

“Much better.”

He reached the door before she spoke again.

“Roman?”

He turned.

“Thank you for telling me the truth tonight. Even the parts that make your family look bad.”

His expression changed, just slightly.

“You deserve the whole truth.”

“Then keep giving it to me.”

“I will.”

After he left, Nadia sat alone with her mother's letter.

She read it again, slower this time.

You are not a wolf, and you are not a weapon. You are a keeper.

For the first time, the mark on her wrist felt less like a curse and more like a question she might eventually learn to answer.

But as she folded the letter, one final line appeared beneath her mother's signature.

It hadn't been there before.

The silver ink formed slowly, each letter emerging as though an invisible hand were writing it.

The Hollow Alpha knows the name of the wolf who betrayed him.

Nadia stared at the sentence.

Then the ink darkened.

A second line appeared.

And that wolf is still alive.