Oops! I Can Hear My Alpha’s Wolf

Even a Temp Can Rewrite a Contract

Mia woke to forty-seven missed calls and a headline asking whether she was carrying the future Alpha king’s secret baby.

She stared at the screen from the Bureau medical room.

“That was fast,” she whispered. “I haven’t even had breakfast.”

Someone had uploaded a blurry photograph of Kael standing between her and his guards. His torn trousers had inspired three fan accounts. Her temporary badge had inspired a fourth.

Her phone rang again.

“Before you ask,” Mia said, “I am not pregnant.”

Lily went silent for two seconds. “I was going to ask if he has a brother.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“Then a younger cousin.”

Mia rubbed her forehead. “I saved an injured wolf. He made one dramatic statement while drugged. That’s all.”

“The dramatic statement is on every screen in my school cafeteria.” Lily lowered her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

That was the correct question.

Before Mia could answer, a nurse entered and handed her a summons from Deputy Director Damon Cross.

Lily heard the paper crackle. “Is that about your job?”

“Probably a certificate of excellence.”

“Mia.”

“Our insurance is active through the end of the month,” Mia said. “Go to class. I’ll call you later.”

She ended the call before Lily could hear the lie in her silence.

Damon Cross’s office occupied the Bureau’s twelfth floor, where the carpets were thick enough to hide the screams of temporary employees.

He greeted Mia with tea and a fatherly smile.

“Extraordinary courage yesterday,” he said. “You saved Alpha Wolfe’s life.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Unfortunately, you also handled unidentified magical evidence, triggered a containment alarm, damaged government property, and became the center of a diplomatic incident.”

He slid a suspension notice across the desk.

Mia looked at the tea. “So the certificate is delayed.”

“Administrative leave. Unpaid, pending investigation.”

Her stomach tightened. Her pay covered rent. Her Bureau contract covered Lily’s treatment for a heart condition that had been stable for years and could become expensive in one bad afternoon.

Damon let her read the last line before placing another folder over it.

“There is an alternative.”

The gold title read TEMPORARY INTERSPECIES MATE LIAISON AGREEMENT.

Mia opened it.

The Bureau wanted her to maintain Kael’s public story for thirty days, live under Silverclaw protection, attend official events, and submit daily reports about his behavior. A sealed addendum required private observations of his moods, medication, security routines, and any sign of Alpha instability.

In return, her suspension would disappear.

“You want me to spy on him.”

“Observe him. Grayhaven needs reassurance that its most powerful Alpha is stable.”

“He took enough tranquilizer to drop a bus and still protected me.”

“Which makes your judgment emotionally compromised.” Damon’s smile did not move. “Decline, and the investigation proceeds. Your employee benefits will end with your contract.”

There it was. Not a threat, according to Bureau language. Merely two facts standing close enough to hold hands.

Mia thought of Lily pretending not to check the insurance portal every week.

Then she turned to page one.

“I’ll need a red pen.”

Damon blinked. “You’ll sign?”

“I’ll read.”

The Bureau legal adviser gave her a red pen with the expression of a man lending a crayon to a child. His badge identified him as Gerald Pike, Senior Counsel.

Mia crossed out three lines.

“Twenty-four-hour availability requires overtime pay. Residence in a high-risk pack compound requires hazard compensation. ‘All necessary examinations’ is too broad. Replace it with ‘medical procedures require separate written consent.’ No blood, tissue, scent, or reproductive samples.”

Pike laughed. “Ms. Chen, this is a standard security contract.”

“Then it has standard violations.”

She added a clause granting her the right to refuse physical contact, ceremonial mating, and marking. Another allowed her to leave the residence at any time. A third guaranteed independent legal counsel and protected Lily’s insurance for twelve months, regardless of Mia’s termination or withdrawal.

Pike reached for the folder. “You do not have authority to revise a Bureau agreement.”

Mia placed one finger on his identification card.

“Your temporary practice authorization expired six days ago.”

The office became very quiet.

Pike snatched up the badge and checked the date. His face turned the color of the red pen.

Mia smiled politely. “Under Regulation Fourteen, an unlicensed adviser can present a contract, but cannot reject amendments on behalf of the Bureau. Deputy Director Cross can.”

Damon’s fatherly expression cooled by one degree.

“You know the regulations well.”

“Temporary employees read the rules. Permanent employees have offices to hide in.”

She placed her phone on the desk and activated the recorder.

“Bureau policy permits recording when employment benefits are discussed. Shall we continue?”

Pike looked ready to eat the red pen.

Twenty-three minutes later, Mia had permanent medical coverage, double salary during the assignment, hazard pay, a private room, an exit right, and written protection from any forced mating ritual. The Bureau kept its observation reports, but she narrowed them to threats against public safety. Kael’s private medical information was excluded.

Damon signed.

The stamp hit the paper with a beautiful, expensive thud.

Mia gathered her copy. “It has been a pleasure negotiating under no pressure whatsoever.”

“One more question.” Damon folded his hands. “The silver object recovered in B-17. Where is it?”

The bell rested in Mia’s coat pocket, cool and silent.

“No evidence transfer form was issued to me.”

“I’m asking informally.”

“You trained us never to answer informal questions about evidence.”

For the first time, Damon’s smile vanished.

The office door opened before he could reply.

Kael Wolfe entered in a charcoal suit, looking nothing like the bleeding wolf who had volunteered his ears for petting. Noah followed him with the weary face of a man who had already lost three arguments before breakfast.

Everyone stood except Mia, who was still checking whether page nine had been initialed.

Kael’s gaze found her immediately.

“You were not supposed to arrive until noon,” Damon said.

“I changed my schedule.”

“Alpha Wolfe, the Bureau has assigned Ms. Chen as your temporary mate liaison.”

“Liaison,” Kael repeated.

Noah glanced at the contract. “The pack was informed she would be placed under the Alpha’s possession.”

Kael looked at him.

Noah cleared his throat. “Protection. Under the Alpha’s protection.”

Mia slid the public portion of the agreement toward Kael. “There are boundaries.”

He read the clause she had added. No marking. No mating ritual. No physical contact without consent.

Pike finally found his voice. “Those provisions may complicate traditional expectations.”

“Keep them,” Kael said.

Mia looked up.

He met her eyes. “If she says no, the answer is no. Silverclaw tradition can survive learning a complete sentence.”

Warmth moved through her before she could stop it. Powerful men often promised protection as if it meant ownership. Kael had just protected her right to leave him.

Damon closed the folder. “Then the agreement is effective immediately.”

Noah took Mia’s small suitcase downstairs. She had packed it during the Bureau’s final background check: clothes, toiletries, Lily’s emergency folder, and one administrative law handbook heavy enough to qualify as a defensive weapon.

A black car waited at the curb behind a wall of reporters.

Kael shielded Mia with one arm without touching her, leaving a careful inch of air between his palm and her back. The reporters shouted anyway.

“Ms. Chen, when is the mating ceremony?”

“Alpha Wolfe, is she pregnant?”

Mia stopped. “According to the internet, with twins.”

Kael’s mouth moved. It was not quite a smile, but several reporters gasped as though they had witnessed an eclipse.

Inside the car, Mia found a paper bag on her seat. It held two packs of cinnamon sandwich cookies, the cheap kind from the Bureau vending machine.

She looked at Kael. “Are these a bribe?”

“Risk management.”

“What risk?”

“Noah said you missed breakfast. Hungry humans become irritable.”

“Noah said that?”

From the front seat, Noah stared heroically through the windshield.

Kael loosened one cuff. “I conducted my own assessment.”

Mia opened the cookies. “You watched me fight an assassin with expired electronics and decided low blood sugar was the danger?”

“The assassin was easier to predict.”

She bit into a cookie to hide her smile.

The city towers thinned into dark pines. Ahead, iron gates rose between two stone wolves, and a vast manor appeared beyond them.

Mia swallowed. “What time should I report here each morning?”

Kael turned toward her.

“You misunderstand the residence clause.”

The gates opened.

“You’re moving in tonight.”