“Sign this, and no Alpha in Veyra can touch you.”
Kace Thorn slid the contract onto the table between them.
Lira stared at the paper. Then at him.
After tonight—the auction, the gunfire, her mother’s voice and the photograph and all those warnings—she’d braced herself for another threat.
But he brought paperwork.
Honestly, it felt worse.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Protection,” Kace said.
Lira let out a laugh, bitter with exhaustion.
“You bought me for ten million. Forgive me if I’m not comforted by another piece of paper telling me what I can and can’t do.”
His jaw twitched.
“You misunderstand.”
“No,” she said. “I understand just fine.”
She reached for the contract, but he moved first. Their hands nearly brushed. Static leapt between their fingers, hot and sharp and impossible to ignore.
Lira froze. So did Kace.
For one heartbeat, nothing moved.
His golden eyes darkened.
Her pulse tripped over itself.
And something, deep and quiet inside her, whispered—
mate.
Kace snatched his hand away.
The rejection hit like a slap.
“Read it,” he muttered.
Lira swallowed hard. “Fine.”
She opened the document.
Thirty days.
That was the first thing that jumped out. Thirty days of protection, spelled out in black and white, under Kace Thorn.
The next bit was even stranger.
No Alpha may claim, mark, purchase, challenge, or compel Lira Vale while this agreement remains active.
Her eyebrows shot up.
“You’re offering me thirty days?”
“Yes.”
“And after that?”
“You leave.”
She looked up at him. “Just like that? You’ll let me?”
Kace’s face hardened. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you.”
That answer rattled her. After the auction, she’d pictured shackles. After everything she could do, she thought she’d end up in a cage.
Instead, the most dangerous Alpha was offering her a way out.
“Why?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Because the Registry is coming.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You keep saying that. The Registry. I don’t know what it means.”
“You need to understand what you’re up against.”
“Then explain it.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When you’re safe.”
Lira slammed the contract onto the table.
“There it is.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
“The part where you decide what I’m allowed to know.”
He stepped closer, tension rolling off him. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m trying to stop everyone from making decisions for me.”
They stared at each other. Something shifted in his eyes—not annoyance, not even anger, but something closer to understanding.
“You’re right,” he said quietly.
That startled her.
Kace pulled out the chair across from her. “Sit.”
She stayed standing.
His mouth twitched. “That wasn’t an order.”
“It sure sounded like one.”
He gestured to the chair again. “Please.”
Lira sat, cautious.
Kace remained on his feet. He pointed to a line in the contract. “You’re under my protection for thirty days.”
“The whole time?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The people hunting you won’t stop.”
He tapped the next part. “No Alpha can claim you.”
Her fingers tightened on the page. “And you?”
Kace met her gaze. “I won’t claim you either.”
She expected relief. She got a sinking feeling instead, and hated that he noticed.
He studied her. “You don’t like that answer.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She looked down at the contract, searching for a distraction. Anything not to look at him.
“Why won’t you claim me?” she asked, voice softer now.
He went very still, all that restless energy folding quiet.
“Because I don’t know what would happen if I did.”
“To you?” she whispered.
“To you,” he said.
Her heart stumbled.
He went on. “You already triggered something at the auction.”
“And?”
“And when I touched you tonight, your wolf responded.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have a wolf.”
Kace’s gaze sharpened. “You think you don’t.”
A shiver ran through her.
He leaned in, voice low. “That’s the problem.”
She stared at him.
“You’re afraid of me,” she said.
He didn’t flinch.
His silence was enough.
Kace Thorn, who everyone feared, was afraid of her.
She forced her eyes down again—and caught something strange near the bottom of the contract. Tiny, almost invisible, buried under the legal seal.
She squinted. “What’s this?”
Kace’s whole demeanor changed. “Nothing.”
“That’s a terrible answer.”
“Lira—”
She pulled the paper closer. The words lined up, sharp and sudden.
Her blood iced over.
SPECIAL CONDITION:
IF LIRA VALE BONDS WITH KACE THORN, THE UNBOUND WILL AWAKEN.
She read it. Again.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
“What is the Unbound?”
Kace kept silent.
She pressed. “What is the Unbound, Kace?”
He said nothing.
“Don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to hear answered.”
“I’m already asking.”
“You don’t understand what you’re reading.”
“Then explain it.”
“No.”
Her chair scraped back. “No?”
His eyes locked on hers. “No.”
Lira stood. “You expect me to sign a contract about becoming something called the Unbound, and just—what? Hope for the best?”
He didn’t move. “I expect you to survive.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He stepped closer—too close. She could feel his heat, his breath, the wild rhythm of his heart.
Her own pulse answered. One beat. Two. Three.
Kace’s nostrils flared.
His eyes dropped to her lips for a second.
She noticed. So did he.
He pulled his gaze back, sharp.
Neither spoke. The air felt tight with electricity.
Kace’s hand flexed at his side, fighting something inside himself.
Lira’s voice came out rough. “Why are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you want to kiss me…” She caught the tension slicing through him. “…and then like you hate yourself for it.”
A flash of pain, raw and honest, passed over his face.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Because of the contract?”
“No.”
“The Registry?”
“No.”
She stabbed the truth between them. “Because of me?”
The silence that followed nearly flattened her.
She softened. “You’re attracted to me.”
Kace closed his eyes, bracing himself. When he opened them, the iron-clad Alpha returned.
“Yes.”
Her breath stuttered.
“But I’m not going to act on it.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because wanting you isn’t the same as having the right to have you.”
She didn’t expect that. For a second, all the hard, complicated things inside him showed through.
“If you become my mate because some supernatural bond tells you to,” he went on, quietly, “I’ll never know if you chose me.”
Something inside her broke open at that.
He wanted her.
He feared her.
He was already tangled up in her, and terrified that claiming her would shatter her choice.
“You think the bond would control me?” she asked.
“I think it could.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll know.”
“How?”
He held her look. “You choose.”
The word lingered in the tense space between them.
Lira looked down.
She flipped ahead—pages and pages of conditions. More restrictions. One read she couldn’t leave Thornwood without permission. Another said she had to be accessible to Kace’s guards.
She jabbed her finger at the clause. “This.”
Kace followed her finger.
“Remove it.”
“No.”
She squared her shoulders. “Then I won’t sign.”
“Lira—”
“I said remove it,” she snapped.
His gaze went cold and sharp. She didn’t break.
“You said protection isn’t ownership,” she pressed.
“It isn’t.”
“Then I decide where I go.”
“Yes.”
“Who I see.”
“Yes.”
“If I stay.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“And if you ever try to force me—”
“You walk away.”
That startled her.
Kace took the contract from her, crossed out the restriction with a pen, and signed his name.
He slid it, and the pen, across to her.
“There.”
She blinked. “You really did it.”
“I told you—protection isn’t ownership.”
For the first time since the auction, she halfway believed him.
She sat.
Kace waited.
Lira lifted the pen—paused.
“One more thing.”
He held her gaze. “What?”
“If I sign this, you don’t get to decide what happens to me after thirty days.”
He nodded. “No.”
“You don’t get to keep me.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to claim me.”
His expression tightened. “No.”
“And you don’t get to use this contract to control me.”
“I won’t.”
She watched him a moment longer. Then she signed.
Lira Vale.
The ink barely dried before the air shifted.
Everything went silent—unnaturally silent.
The contract shone beneath her hand, a thin silver rim blooming around her signature.
She jerked her hand back. “What—”
Kace grabbed the page.
Silver light darted across it, then vanished.
All color drained from his face.
“What did you do?” he demanded.
“I signed it,” Lira said, confused.
“You weren’t supposed to trigger it.”
Her stomach twisted. “Trigger what?”
He didn’t answer.
The contract folded itself—once, twice—then the Registry seal at the bottom split. Black light cracked through it.
Kace swore, low and hard. “Get behind me.”
Lira stood. “No.”
“Lira—”
“You’re going to tell me what just happened.”
“Not here.”
Someone knocked—three slow, deliberate knocks.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kace went stone-still.
Lira felt the chill crawl through her veins.
“Who is that?” she whispered.
He reached for his weapon. “Stay behind me.”
The knocking came again. Three knocks.
A woman’s voice floated through the door. Soft. Familiar. Impossible.
“Lira…”
Her heart stopped. That was her mother’s voice. Again.
Kace’s face hardened.
The door handle turned.
“You said she was gone,” Lira whispered.
“I never said that.”
The handle turned slowly.
Kace moved, placing his body between Lira and the door.
Whatever happens, he murmured, “don’t open that door.”
She stared at his back.
“You know who’s outside.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
His answer came so quietly, she barely heard it.
“The person who took your mother.”
The door swung open.
A single photograph slid across the floor.
Lira stared down, breath frozen.
It was her, as a child. Standing next to Seraphine. And to their left—Kace.
But this time, someone had scrawled three words in fresh red ink across the picture:
HE LIED TO YOU.
Lira looked up slowly.
Kace said nothing—he didn’t even bother to deny it.
Instead, his voice rasped out, almost too soft to hear:
“There’s one thing the contract doesn’t protect you from.”
Her blood thundered.
“What?”
Kace turned, eyes wide and terrified.
“Me.”
And somewhere beyond the open door, something growled. The sound was deeper than a human voice, wild and hungry.
It sounded exactly like Lira’s wolf.