Contracts Bride

Chapter 1

Ethan's Perspective

The wolf pack’s council hall stood at the highest point of the Black Wolf territory, a circular structure built from thousand-year blackstone. Its dome was carved with dense wolf totems, each groove inlaid with fragments of luminous pearls that could illuminate half the room even without candlelight.

Tonight, not only were thick tallow candles lit throughout the hall, but pine-resin torches also blazed along the walls. Their flickering flames cast the elders' elongated shadows upon the cold stone floor, radiating an air of unquestionable authority.

I stood in the eastern corner of the hall, fingers tightly clutching the pale blue beast-hide skirt I wore. This was my finest garment, tanned from the unique soft fur of the Grey Wolf tribe by my grandmother before she passed, its edges embroidered with tiny crescent moons.

Grandmother used to say that all Omegas of the Grey Wolf tribe were connected to moonlight, and that the crescent pattern would bless us in finding our destined mates. Today was the pack’s annual "Rite of Bonding," where the elders would use the ancient "Destiny Totem," passed down through millennia, to pair Alphas and Omegas of mating age. For my part, I had been anticipating this day for half a year.

Because I knew, in my heart, that my destined mate would most likely be Kyle, the Wolf King of the Black Wolf tribe.

Destined bonds among our kind always left traces; an Alpha’s and an Omega’s auras would subtly call to one another. The first time I saw Kyle at an inter-tribal gathering, I felt an inexplicable flutter in my chest.

He had just led the Black Wolf tribe to victory against a pack of wild wolves on the plains. Though he still carried the faint scent of blood, his posture remained erect, his sharp, angular face framed by jet-black hair, his eyes like deep winter ponds—piercing and cold. Yet, this seemingly unapproachable Wolf King made me blush without thinking, nearly dropping the basket of herbs I carried.

From that day on, I often found excuses to deliver herbs to the Black Wolf tribe just to catch a distant glimpse of him. I watched him train his pack in the sparring grounds—in his wolf form, his fur gleamed like polished obsidian, moving like a black lightning bolt. I saw him discuss matters with his elders by the bonfire, his expression focused, a small furrow forming between his brows when he was deep in thought.

I stored these images in my heart like precious gems, counting the days until the Bonding Ceremony, longing for the totem to officially declare our connection.

"Silence." The High Elder, seated at the head of the hall, spoke slowly. As the oldest of the wolf elders, he held a wooden box half a person’s height, carved with intertwining wolf heads and crescent moons—the vessel of our people’s destined bonds. The hall fell instantly quiet, every gaze fixed upon the box. Even my fellow Grey Wolves beside me held their breath.

With great care, the High Elder opened the box. Inside, against dark crimson velvet, lay a palm-sized piece of milky-white crystal, its surface shimmering with a faint halo—the Destiny Totem. He looked toward Kyle and me, his voice aged but firm. "Today, for the Rite of Bonding, we shall first test the bond between Kyle, Wolf King of the Black Wolf tribe, and Ethan of the Grey Wolf tribe."

My heart skipped a beat, my steps turning unsteady. Urged by the others, I slowly moved toward the center of the hall. Kyle also rose from the western side. Dressed in sleek black beast-hide armor, his footsteps were steady, each one echoing faintly on the stone, as if treading directly on my heart. I didn’t dare look up at him, keeping my eyes fixed on my own feet until I reached the totem. Reminded by the High Elder, I gradually extended my right hand.

The moment my fingertip touched the totem crystal, a scorching warmth instantly spread from the point of contact, flowing up my arm and into my heart. Soon, my entire chest was filled with a dense, tingling warmth, as if my very blood had begun to boil. This was the resonance only destined mates shared—intense and unmistakable. I could even sense the aura emanating from the other end—Kyle’s—carrying the Black Wolf tribe’s characteristic sharpness, yet subtly intertwining with my own.

I couldn’t help but lift my head to look at Kyle, who stood on the other side of the totem. My eyes brimmed with unrestrained joy and hope. I thought that even if he wasn’t enthusiastic, he would at least show some trace of emotion. But the next moment, the smile on my face froze.

Kyle’s brow was deeply furrowed. There was no warmth in his eyes from the resonance, only a churning coldness and disgust, as if he had touched not the Destiny Totem, but something filthy. He jerked his hand back, even taking a step backward as if evading some scourge. Then, he shoved the totem box from the High Elder’s hands.

With a clatter, the box hit the stone floor, the totem crystal rolling out and tracing a white arc in the torchlight. The hall erupted in gasps. The elders’ faces darkened; the Black Wolf tribespeople looked utterly shocked. As for me, I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. The searing heat in my fingertips vanished without a trace, replaced by a bone-deep chill.

"I do not accept it." Kyle’s voice was piercingly cold, like a frigid wind from the wilderness, cutting through the crowd and striking straight into my heart. His gaze fell upon me, filled with undisguised contempt. "My heart belongs only to the Moonlight Girl who saved me years ago. Ethan, don’t think you can use this 'destined' status to replace her. It’s an insult to me, and to you."

Moonlight Girl.

Those words pierced my heart like a fine needle. I had long heard the legend: in his youth, Kyle was attacked by a black bear in the wilds, and a girl carrying the scent of moonlight saved him. Since then, he had been searching for that girl, making her his sole obsession. I had thought the bond of the Destiny Totem would make him let go of his fixation. I never imagined that, in his heart, I wasn’t even worthy of being her substitute.

My cheeks burned as if I’d been publicly slapped. The gazes of the tribespeople felt like countless beams of light upon me—some pitying, some mocking, some merely curious. Instinctively, I lowered my head, clutching my skirt even tighter, my knuckles turning white. Yet a stubborn pride within me refused to back down so easily.

I took a deep breath, mustered my courage, and lifted my head to meet Kyle’s eyes. Though my voice trembled slightly, the words were clear: "Kyle, the destined bond is our law, the fate of the wolf tribe. I know you’re waiting for her, but I can wait for you… until you find her, until you’re willing to accept me."

I thought my concession might soften him, but instead, his eyes grew even colder, a mocking curve lifting the corner of his mouth. "Unnecessary."

Two words, decisive and final, leaving no room for negotiation. "I will never have even an ounce of feeling for you. Even if I never find her, I will not marry you."

"Kyle!" the High Elder rebuked sharply. "The Destiny Totem is a covenant set by our ancestors—how can you refuse it so willfully?" The other elders chimed in, a chorus of dissuasion.

"Wolf King, the destined bond concerns the propagation and strength of our people—this is no time for willfulness!"

"Ethan is one of the finest Omegas of the Grey Wolf tribe—skilled with herbs, gentle-natured. More than a suitable match for you!"

"That Moonlight Girl is just a legend—she might not even be alive anymore! You cannot defy our laws for some elusive phantom!"

Kyle stood firm, his spine straight, yielding no ground despite the elders’ persuasion. "Even if it means breaking tribal law, I will not compromise." His resolve was absolute, his eyes filled with a stubborn determination; he was clearly set on refusing this bond.

The atmosphere in the hall grew tense. On one side, the elders upholding tradition; on the other, the obstinate Wolf King. Both sides held their ground, neither willing to yield.

Caught in the middle, I felt like an superfluous presence, watching them debate my future as if it were a bargaining chip. This was my bonding, yet I had no say in it. And the other party involved wished only to push me away.

After what felt like an eternity of argument, the High Elder finally sighed and raised a hand to quiet the crowd. He looked at Kyle, his tone weary yet still commanding. "My decision is made. In half a month, you and Ethan will be wed. This is not only a matter of destined bonds but also a symbol of the alliance between the Black Wolf and Grey Wolf tribes. You will comply."

Kyle’s head snapped up, his eyes filled with disbelief. "High Elder!"

"Enough," the High Elder cut him off. "Dismissed. Prepare for the ceremony."

The other elders nodded in agreement. Kyle looked at them, then at me, the disgust in his eyes deepening. Yet he dared not openly defy the collective decree. With a cold snort, he said nothing more, turned, and strode out of the council hall.

His retreating figure was resolute and upright, devoid of any lingering attachment. He didn’t spare me a single glance. I watched him step out of the hall and disappear into the shadows beyond the doorway, my heart aching with a sour bitterness, as if I’d swallowed a handful of unripe wild berries. My eyes grew hot, tears welling up, but I forced them back.

I would not cry. Even if he didn’t like me, I would stand tall with my pride. Someday, I would make him see my worth.

The elders offered a few more instructions about the wedding details—mostly about tending to the Wolf King’s needs and being a proper Luna. I acknowledged each one, my voice slightly hoarse but remaining calm throughout.

After the assembly, the tribespeople gradually dispersed, and the once-bustling hall grew quiet, leaving only the dancing candlelight and scattered shadows. I walked to the center of the stone floor and picked up the fallen totem crystal. Its glow had faded, but a faint warmth still lingered. Clutching it tightly, a sliver of foolish hope quietly rekindled in my heart.

Perhaps he was just struggling to accept the destined bond—after all, he had searched for that Moonlight Girl for so long. Perhaps after we were married, if I warmed his beast-blood brew each day, kept his den in order, prepared soothing herbs for him on full-moon nights when the frenzy took hold… perhaps then he would gradually see my sincerity and let go of his past obsession.

Holding onto this thought, I carefully returned the totem to its box and walked out of the council hall. The moonlight outside was bright, casting a silvery sheen on the stone path. I looked up at the full moon, tightened my grip on the box, and silently told myself: Stay strong, Ethan. The wedding in half a month will be the start of your happiness.

Back at the Grey Wolf tribe’s temporary lodgings, the old grey wolf my grandmother had left behind nuzzled my hand, as if to comfort me. I knelt, wrapped my arms around its neck, and finally, the tears I’d held back fell. Burying my face in its soft fur, I whispered, "Grandmother, he doesn’t like me. But the elders have decreed the bonding. What should I do?"

The old wolf whimpered softly and licked my tears. I knew I had no way out. When the wedding came in half a month, I had to go. Even if the road ahead was strewn with thorns, even if there was no place for me in Kyle’s heart, I had to walk it. Perhaps, just perhaps, the day would come when he would finally turn and see me.

Over the next two weeks, I busied myself with wedding preparations. According to wolf custom, an Omega must personally sew a beast-hide cloak for her Alpha and gather a bundle of wolf-tail grass, symbolizing loyalty. I rose before dawn each day to tan the softest black wolf pelts, stitching the cloak stitch by stitch, embroidering the same crescent pattern along its edges as on my skirt. Every afternoon, I ventured into the wilderness in search of wolf-tail grass. No matter how far I had to walk, or what low-level beasts I might encounter, I pressed on without hesitation.

I sewed all my hopes into that cloak, hid all my sincerity within that wolf-tail grass, praying that on our wedding day, he would feel the earnestness in my heart.

The council hall doors thudded shut behind me, muffling the elders' reprimands and the tribespeople's whispers, but the frustration and anger churning in my chest did not abate in the slightest. I clenched my fists, knuckles whitening, my footsteps pounding heavily on the flagstone path. Black Wolf tribesmen I passed along the way swiftly moved aside; no one dared approach the storm of my rage.

My den, carved from a single massive block of blackstone, sat at the highest point of the territory. It was spacious but stark. Inside held little decoration: a stone bed layered with furs, a wall hung with weapons, and a broad stone table where I handled pack affairs. The moment I crossed the threshold, the restless energy within me broke free. I drove my fist hard into the nearby rock wall.

A dull thud echoed as a fine c***k splintered the stone. Sharp fragments scraped my knuckles, and blood welled, dripping to stain the grey-blue flagstones. But the physical sting was nothing compared to the turmoil in my chest. The High Elder's decree echoed in my mind, alongside the memory of Ethan's eyes—brimming with hope yet burning with defiance. And clearer than both, the hazy yet warm figure from my childhood.

It was a stormy night over a decade ago. I was just a juvenile wolf then, who had sneaked out of the dens and wandered into the wilderness woods. There, I encountered a starving black bear. As the bear's fetid-swiped paw swung toward me, I was certain I would die. Suddenly, a small figure rushed forward, planting herself between me and the beast, brandishing a slender stick.

She seemed even younger than I was, dressed in a faded beast-hide dress, her hair plastered to her forehead by the rain. Yet her eyes held an astonishing firmness. She shouted at the bear, her grip on the flimsy weapon unyielding. Enraged, the bear turned its charge toward her. She grabbed my hand, and we stumbled blindly through the trees in our frantic escape.

In the chaos, we tumbled down a small earthen slope. The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness was her body shielding mine from the falling rocks, moonlight washing over her, casting a faint silver halo. The air carried the subtle scent of herbs from her skin. When I awoke, I was back in my bed in the wolf dens. The old shaman said I had only minor injuries, but the girl who saved me was gone, never to be found.

Over the years, I had scoured every corner of the plains, dispatched countless search parties, all with little result. I only remembered her moonlight aura and the scent of herbs, the sight of her small back standing between me and death. I didn't even know her name, privately calling her the "Moonlight Girl" in my heart. She was the sole light in my dark childhood, the one person I was destined to find. How could I accept a stranger, an Omega, using the label "destined" to usurp her place?

Ethan.

I turned the name over in my mind, my thoughts laced with impatience. She was just an ordinary Grey Wolf Omega. In the council hall, standing beside me, she had radiated timidity. Even when she looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and said she "could wait," it only struck me as an attempt to latch onto me, the Wolf King, using this so-called destiny as her leverage.

Docile as a lamb. Her eyes lacked the Moonlight Girl's resolve. She carried none of that calming herbal scent—at least, none I had noticed. How could someone like her be the one I sought? The elders insisted the Destiny Totem could not err, but to me, this "destiny" was merely a shackle, an obstacle blocking me from my true love.

"Wolf King, are you there?" The voice of Raynor, my most trusted subordinate and the one overseeing the wedding preparations, came from the cave entrance.

"Enter." I reined in my anger, moved to the stone table, and sat, grabbing a clean piece of hide to wipe the blood from my knuckles. The pain helped focus my mind.

Raynor entered, holding a rolled parchment listing the wedding preparations. He noticed my injured hand and the c***k in the wall, his eyes flickering with surprise, but he knew better than to question. He bowed his head and approached. "Wolf King, these are the preliminary plans. Following the protocol for a Wolf King's wedding, we need to prepare the bonfire dance, the tribal rites, and invite the leaders of all the tribes to witness…"

"Unnecessary," I cut him off with an impatient wave, my tone icy. "Don't bother with the full ceremony. A simple formality will suffice. Perform the basic rites, no need to invite the other tribal leaders. It's a waste of time."

Raynor stared at me, confusion plain on his face. "But, Wolf King, this is your wedding. It's also the alliance ceremony between the Black Wolf and Grey Wolf tribes. If it's too simple, it might offend the Grey Wolves and the other packs…"

"And if it does?" I scoffed, fixing him with a sharp glare. "This wedding was never my wish. Getting through it is concession enough. Furthermore, make it known: after the wedding, I will not share my bed with Ethan, nor will she receive the privileges of a Luna. Clear out that empty storage room in the farthest corner for her."

That room was narrow, cold, and usually held spare goods. I chose it deliberately, to make it clear to Ethan that in my eyes, she was an insignificant stranger, not even a worthy "Wolf King's mate." I would give her no hope, no chance to believe this destined bond could secure a place by my side. The moment I found the Moonlight Girl, I would annul this farcical union.

Raynor's expression was troubled, but he bowed respectfully. "Understood, Wolf King. I will see to it." He knew my temperament; once my mind was set, I rarely relented. He said no more, silently rerolling the parchment and turning to leave.

"Wait." I stopped him, remembering something. "Also, intensify the search for the Moonlight Girl. Spare no expense. Find her, quickly." That was my priority. The absurd wedding was barely a concern.

"Understood. I've already deployed more men, focusing on the tribes near the plains from that time. We should have leads soon." Raynor nodded and left the den.

Silence and emptiness returned, broken only by my breathing and the crackle of the torch. I sat on the edge of my stone bed, childhood memories surfacing again: the moonlight, the storm, the stick, the faint herbal scent… These fragments wove together, deepening my obsession. I retrieved a small wooden box hidden beneath my bed. Inside lay a tiny silver bell, found near the slope where we fell, likely dropped by the girl. I had kept it with me all these years, a token to find her by.

I gently stroked the bell. Its cool surface against my skin, I could almost hear its faint, clear chime. If that girl was still alive, where was she now? Was she well? Was she, perhaps, also searching for me? Countless questions swirled, solidifying my resolve.

Unnoticed, the sky outside darkened. The sounds of the night patrol and distant wolf howls—the familiar sounds of a wolf tribe's night—filtered in. I lay on the bed, sleep elusive. Every time I closed my eyes, Ethan's image surfaced unbidden—her in that pale blue hide dress, her hair in a simple ponytail, eyes red-rimmed yet stubbornly holding my gaze, refusing to yield.

And that strange warmth when our fingers touched the totem. Logically, I should have felt repelled by an unfamiliar Omega, yet that resonance had stirred something in me, an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

How?

My eyes snapped open. I sat up, shaking my head sharply as if to dislodge the absurd thought. An illusion. It must be. The totem's power forcing a connection, nothing to do with Ethan herself. She was just a stranger, a burden imposed by the elders. I couldn't let these fleeting sensations shake my determination to find the Moonlight Girl.

I took a deep breath, forcing calm, and lay back down. I closed my eyes, deliberately conjuring the Moonlight Girl's form, pushing Ethan's image away.

But the more I tried, the clearer Ethan's tear-filled eyes became. Her trembling yet firm words—"I can wait for you"—pricked at my heart like a fine needle, agitating me inexplicably. I even found myself wondering: did she truly believe in this destined bond, or was she simply using it to climb the ranks?

I crushed the thought the moment it arose. Her motives didn't matter. I would hold my ground, give her no opening. Once I found the Moonlight Girl, it would all be over.

The night deepened. The howls outside faded, leaving only the sputtering torch. I tossed and turned, finally falling into a fitful sleep near dawn. In my dreams, I returned to that stormy night. The Moonlight Girl stood before me, but her face was blurred, indistinct… and then, it seemed to shift, overlapping with Ethan's features.

"Impossible!" I jolted awake, my forehead damp with cold sweat, heart hammering. The first light of dawn tinged the sky outside.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, my mind a turmoil of unease and irritation. Why such a dream? I was exhausted, that was all. Just hallucinations. I stood and pushed open the stone door. The chill morning air hit my face, clearing my head.

The distant plains were shrouded in morning mist. I could just make out the figures of tribesmen beginning their early training. Everything was as it should be. Only the impending, ridiculous wedding served as a reminder that the Grey Wolf Omega named Ethan would soon intrude upon my life.

I clenched my fists, my gaze hardening once more. Whoever she was, whatever the totem decreed, my mind would not change. Ethan was merely a passerby in my life. Once I found the Moonlight Girl, she would vanish from my sight for good. I would break free from this shackle of destiny.

I turned back into the den. Raynor had already had the corner room cleared. I walked over to inspect it. The cramped space held only a crude stone bed and a wooden chest. Dust still clung to the walls, and a damp chill hung in the air. I nodded, satisfied. This would suffice to make her position clear.

"Wolf King, the Grey Wolf tribe sent word asking if we need to arrange for someone to receive Ethan's dowry on the wedding day," Raynor said quietly from behind me.

"Unnecessary. Let them bring it themselves. No special arrangements." My tone was flat, as if discussing a matter of no importance. In my view, this wedding was meaningless. A dowry was beneath notice.

Raynor acknowledged the order and withdrew. Alone again, I went to the stone table, picked up the silver bell, and turned it over in my palm. Sunlight filtered through the door seam, glinting softly off the metal.

"Wait for me," I whispered to the bell, my voice thick with obsession. "I will find you."

In the following days, I poured all my energy into pack affairs and the search for the Moonlight Girl, ignoring the wedding preparations entirely, leaving everything to Raynor. I occasionally overheard tribesmen commenting on the subdued nature of the upcoming ceremony, but I paid no mind. It was better this way, saving time and effort.

Yet, every night when I closed my eyes, the image of Ethan's red-rimmed eyes returned. The strange sense of familiarity from the totem touch grew sharper. I repeated to myself it was an illusion, a trick of the totem's power, but the restlessness within me only intensified.

I began to wish for the wedding to be over, not because I desired a new life with Ethan, but because I wanted this obligation behind me. Then I could focus solely on my search, free from the distraction of this absurd "destined bond." Little did I know, this wedding I so fiercely resisted would become a pivotal point in my life. But at that time, blinded by my own fixation, I remained utterly unaware.