The Bloodline Seal

Chapter 3: The Alpha’s Protection

At dawn, Silver Hollow opened its gates for me a second time.

“Most Alphas leave an alliance meeting with a signed treaty,” one of my guards said. “You came back for a servant.”

“She isn’t a servant.”

His mouth closed.

“Don’t speak to Mara unless she speaks to you first,” I continued. “And keep your hands to yourselves.”

Both guards fell silent.

My wolf stirred beneath my ribs.

*Take her out of here.*

I had been thinking the same thing since I first scented her.

I had spent the night telling myself this was about the alliance. About Ironveil’s northern borders. About the protection Rafe needed.

That was only part of the truth.

Mara wasn’t like the people who usually approached an Alpha. They came prepared to bargain, their confidence sharpened by family names and pack influence.

Mara only looked for exits.

She didn’t want anything from me.

She barely looked at me at all.

I still didn’t understand why she affected me, or why my wolf seemed more interested in her than he had ever been in anyone else.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn’t leaving her in that house.

The driver opened the door.

“Wait here,” I ordered. “I need to collect her.”

The manor looked exactly as it had the night before—beautiful from a distance, cold up close.

I knocked once.

The door opened barely an inch before I pushed it wider. Beta Cal stumbled backward, his jaw tightening when he saw me.

Behind him, Mara stood half-hidden near the corner.

She clutched a small canvas bag against her chest. It was barely full.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

Mara nodded.

Cal stepped forward. “If you just want to—”

“I wasn’t speaking to you.”

His mouth closed.

He had spent four years ordering Mara around. It was clear no one had ever interrupted him before.

I turned back to her.

“Where are the rest of your belongings?”

Mara lowered her eyes.

“That’s everything,” Rafe said from behind us.

I looked at him. “Her entire life fits in one bag?”

Rafe’s expression remained cold. “What more does she need?”

Before I could answer, a sharp female voice echoed down the staircase.

“What are you waiting for?”

A blonde woman descended slowly, one hand resting on a polished statue carved in her likeness. Her green eyes moved over me before settling on Mara.

Rafe’s mate.

“Take her, Alpha,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be just as useful to you as she was here.”

Mara went rigid.

I had noticed the same reaction the night before when I asked Rafe about the woman at his side. Fear had tightened every muscle in her body.

I wanted to know why.

“You don’t get to speak about her like that,” I said.

The woman’s lips curved. “Look at her. She’s about to faint.”

Mara’s heartbeat stumbled.

Her knees buckled.

I caught her arm before she hit the floor. Her skin felt cold beneath my fingers.

“She is not your servant anymore,” I said, looking at the woman. “And she is not something you get to discard when she becomes inconvenient.”

The woman recoiled. “How dare you!”

“Rafe.” I turned toward him. “Control your household.”

“Disobedience!” she shrieked. “If anyone here is disobedient, it’s that rat hiding in the corner.”

My wolf growled.

*Who is she calling a rat?*

I kept my expression calm. “You should read the agreement before objecting to its terms. It seems Rafe failed to explain everything.”

One of my guards stepped forward and handed me the folder tucked beneath his arm.

I pulled out the contract and pressed it against Rafe’s chest.

“The alliance is conditional,” I said. “Silver Hollow receives Ironveil’s protection, patrol support, and access to our northern routes. In return, Mara leaves this pack permanently and comes under my protection.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “All that for your help?”

“I don’t make vague agreements.”

The woman snatched the contract from Rafe and skimmed the first page. Her eyes widened.

“You expect us to sign all this?”

“I expect you to honor the terms you already accepted.”

Rafe’s jaw flexed, but he turned toward the office.

“Fine. We’ll discuss it there.”

He led the way with the woman at his side. Cal followed, his expression hard.

I stayed behind with Mara.

“You can join us,” I told her. “Or wait in the car. You have the right to hear the terms before you leave.”

Her fingers tightened around the bag. “Are those my only options?”

“For now.”

Her blue eyes flicked toward the office, then toward the open door.

“The office,” she whispered.

“Good choice.”

I stepped aside to let her pass.

She walked several paces behind me. I saw the looks she received from Rafe, Cal, and the woman beside them.

None of them were concerned about her fear.

They were annoyed by it.

The office was warm from the fire, but Mara remained near the doorway.

“Take a seat,” I said quietly.

She didn’t move.

Her eyes darted toward Rafe’s mate.

“She doesn’t have that privilege here,” the woman said with a laugh.

I looked at her. “Sitting is not a privilege.”

Her smile faded.

I pointed to the empty chair nearest the door. Mara moved toward it and lowered herself carefully, still clutching her bag.

Rafe took his place behind the desk.

“Alpha Kieran, you are in my home.”

“And you asked for my protection.”

His expression tightened.

The woman beside him folded her arms. “You need our cooperation.”

“I need you to honor your word. Those are different things.”

Rafe’s nostrils flared.

I placed the contract on the desk. “Read it.”

“I already agreed that you could take her as part of the alliance.”

“Then you should have no reason to fear the written terms.”

His eyes moved over the pages. He read the first section, then the second. His gaze stopped when he reached the clause concerning Mara.

“She is not part of the council.”

“She is the reason this agreement exists.”

Rafe’s stare shifted to his sister.

Mara kept her eyes lowered, but I saw the tremor in her hands.

Rafe’s mate snatched the pen from the desk. “Just sign it and get her out of this house.”

Rafe looked at her.

For a moment, something passed between them. Irritation. Resentment. Perhaps even fear.

Then he signed.

The pen scratched across the final line.

He shoved the contract toward me.

“Done.”

I checked the signature before folding the pages back into the folder.

“Good.”

The woman’s mouth curved with satisfaction. “Now take her and leave.”

“I was going to.”

I rose and held out my hand to Mara.

She stared at it for a moment.

Then her fingers slipped into mine.

Not because I pulled her toward me.

Because she chose to take it.

Her hand was warm despite the chill in her skin. She stood slowly, her other arm still wrapped around the small bag.

We walked toward the front door.

Mara didn’t look back.

Not at Rafe.

Not at Cal.

Not at the woman who had spent years making her afraid.

That told me more than any farewell could have.

She hated them as much as they hated her.

At the open doorway, she stopped.

The black sedan waited beyond the steps.

Mara stared at it, her breathing growing shallow.

“Mara.”

She didn’t move.

The manor behind her seemed to pull at every part of her. Her fingers slipped from mine and caught the edge of the doorframe instead.

Her knuckles turned white.

“It’s time to go,” I said.

“Okay.”

The word barely left her mouth.

She took one step forward.

Then another.

Her heartbeat stumbled again.

Mara’s head tilted back, and her eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

I caught her before she hit the stone.

“I’ve got you.”

Her whole body tensed against mine.

She weighed almost nothing.

Anger moved through me, colder than the morning air. Four years of neglect had left her so weak that carrying her felt like lifting a child.

I carried her to the car.

One of my guards opened the rear door. I slid inside with Mara in my arms and settled her carefully against the seat.

The guard raised one eyebrow.

“Say nothing,” I warned.

His expression immediately went blank.

I kept one hand near Mara’s shoulder while I listened to her breathing. Her pulse was slow but steady.

After a few minutes, her lashes fluttered.

She sat upright suddenly and moved away from me, pressing herself against the opposite door.

I didn’t reach for her.

Instead, I gave my guards instructions about the northern patrols and the reports waiting at Ironveil. Every few seconds, I glanced toward Mara to make sure she was still breathing evenly.

She watched me in silence.

When the car stopped at the Ironveil gates, I opened the door myself.

“Come.”

“I’m fine,” she murmured.

She climbed out without taking my hand.

The gates opened, and the guards stationed along the drive straightened as we passed. Their eyes moved toward Mara, then quickly away when they noticed my expression.

No one questioned her presence.

No one would.

Ironveil’s estate rose beyond the courtyard, built from dark stone and pale timber. It was larger than Silver Hollow’s manor, but it felt different.

Less decorative.

More secure.

Mara stopped at the bottom of the steps and stared up at it.

“You’ll have your own room,” I said. “No one will enter without permission.”

Her fingers tightened around the canvas bag.

I led her inside.

The dining hall stretched beneath a vaulted ceiling, with a table large enough to seat the entire council. Mara’s gaze moved over the room but never lingered.

“The household rotates kitchen duties,” I explained. “You won’t be expected to work here. If you need something, write it on the board in the kitchen, and it will be ordered.”

She followed me through the archway.

A wooden board covered one wall. Beside it sat a row of pens.

I picked one up and held it out to her.

“If you need clothes, food, medicine—anything at all—write it down.”

Her brow furrowed.

“I don’t need anything.”

The answer came too quickly.

I looked at the bag she carried.

“You arrived with one dress and a pair of worn shoes.”

“I have enough.”

“No.”

The word came out sharper than I intended.

Mara flinched.

I lowered my voice. “You need more than enough to survive the next day.”

Her blue eyes moved around the kitchen. She looked uncomfortable with the idea of asking for anything, as if wanting something made her dangerous.

I set the pen to the board.

“Clothes,” I said, writing as I spoke. “Shoes. Undergarments. Toiletries. A coat. Anything else you may need.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

I continued writing.

She stood quietly beside me, clutching that empty bag as if it were armor.

When she turned, the sleeve of her dress shifted.

A faint silver line caught the light beneath her glove.

The bloodline seal.

Mara pulled the fabric down at once.

I said nothing.

But my wolf had gone silent.

Not asleep.

Listening.