Contracts Bride

Chapter 4

Kyle's Perspective

The morning chill still clung to the air as thin light filtered through the stone window of my chamber. Leaning against the stone bed, I rubbed the silver bell between my fingers, my mind filled with the image of the Moonlight Girl. A dull throb persisted behind my temples from last night's drinking, and the memory of the farcical wedding, of that figure waiting at the den entrance, stirred a fresh wave of irritation.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. I frowned. "Enter."

The stone door swung open quietly, and Ethan walked in, holding a clay bowl and a stone platter. She still wore that plain, dark red wedding dress, its hem now dusty, her hair loosely tied, looking weary. Yet she carried the items steadily, moving with a caution that seemed afraid to disturb, a faint, hidden hope in her eyes.

Her. My irritation flared, my gaze turning colder.

She approached the stone table, set the items down gently, and spoke in a voice soft as a mosquito's hum, deliberately gentle. "Kyle, I've prepared breakfast for you, as is customary. Please eat it while it's warm."

The bowl held warm beast blood, steam rising faintly. The platter was arranged with neatly cut smoked meat. The aroma, usually familiar and welcome, now felt acrid. Her overly cautious demeanor, as if I were some fearsome beast or she desperately sought my approval, grated on me—this deliberate attempt to please made my skin crawl.

I didn't even look at the food. Not bothering to hide my disgust, I swept my arm out, knocking the bowl and platter from her hands. A sharp crash echoed as they hit the floor. Warm blood splattered across the stone, spreading in dark stains. The meat rolled into a corner, pottery shards scattering everywhere.

"I don't eat anything you've touched. Get out." I stared coldly at her, my revulsion plain. From the corner of my eye, I saw a shard had cut her bare ankle, blood welling instantly. I felt nothing, thinking she'd brought it upon herself by forcing her attentions on me.

Ethan stood frozen, the expectation on her face solidifying into shock, then melting into profound hurt. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She just bit her lip hard, knelt, and began gathering the broken pieces. Her fingers were cut too, blood dripping onto the blood-stained stone, a glaring red. She didn't make a sound, silent as a shadow.

I looked away, picking up the silver bell again, deliberately ignoring her presence. Only when the door closed softly, restoring the room's silence, did I notice the lingering mix of meat aroma and faint blood scent, fueling my agitation. I stood, kicked at the mess on the floor, and went to the window, shoving it open. The cold morning air rushed in, a futile attempt to clear my mind.

Raynor soon entered to clean. Seeing my dark expression, he reported cautiously, "Wolf King, reports are back from the border tribes. The Blood Wolf clan has been unusually active. We suspect they're planning something and need to heighten our vigilance."

"Understood." I reined in my frustration, taking the scroll he offered. It detailed patrol routes and tribal movements. Tracing the familiar place names with my finger, my focus gradually shifted to pack affairs—the tribe's safety far outweighed any insignificant Omega.

I spent the entire morning in the council hall with the elders and commanders, discussing border defense. The Blood Wolves had always been unruly, a long-standing thorn in our side. Their recent movements clearly spelled trouble. We drafted detailed patrol schedules and dispatched elite warriors to the border. It was nearly noon when the meeting adjourned.

As the commanders filed out, Raynor stayed to organize the records. I leaned back in the stone chair, massaging my throbbing temples. The hangover and the long morning had left me weary. The old injury on my shoulder blade ached dully—a relic from the black bear attack in my childhood. It always flared up in damp weather or when I was overworked.

"Wolf King, should I summon the shaman to apply some medicine?" Raynor asked, noticing my discomfort.

"No. It's an old complaint. I'll endure it." I waved him off. I was used to the ache, though when it was bad, it sometimes brought back the hazy memory of the Moonlight Girl tending my wounds, a memory that always brought a strange, fleeting comfort.

Just then, two warriors responsible for the outer perimeter guard rushed in, faces anxious. "Wolf King! It's the Grey Wolf Omega, Miss Ethan… she went to the back mountain alone!"

"The back mountain?" My heart jolted. My brow furrowed instantly. The back mountain was a dense forest at the edge of the plains, home to various lower-tier beasts—lone wolves, wildcats. While not powerful, they were more than a match for a defenseless Omega. A Grey Wolf Omega, with no combat skills and unfamiliar with the terrain, had no business going there alone.

"What was she doing there? Didn't anyone stop her?" My tone held a trace of sharpness I didn't recognize. My first reaction upon hearing she'd gone wasn't annoyance, but concern.

"We tried, but she insisted. Said she needed to gather some herbs. We didn't dare physically restrain her, so we came to report immediately." The warrior bowed his head, speaking carefully.

Herbs? My hand went unconsciously to my old wound. Had she heard about my pain and gone to find relief? The thought surfaced, but I crushed it instantly, my voice turning cold. "Foolish!"

Yet, despite my words, a sense of unease grew. However much she repelled me, she was the mate decreed by the elders, my nominal partner. If something happened to her in Black Wolf territory, it wouldn't just be a failure to the Grey Wolves; it would make the Black Wolf tribe a laughingstock for being unable to protect a single Omega.

I stood, grabbing my wolf-tooth club from beside the chair. "Raynor, finish the records. I'm going to the back mountain."

"Wolf King, I'll come with you!" Raynor said quickly.

"No need. I'm just checking. I'll be back soon." I cut him off and strode out of the hall. I didn't want anyone sensing my concern, even if it was just for the tribe's reputation. I didn't want it becoming gossip.

Outside the dens, I ran swiftly toward the back mountain. It wasn't far, maybe half an hour's journey, but I pushed myself harder than usual, the unease coiling inside me like a vine. I told myself I just didn't want her causing trouble for the Black Wolf tribe, but the image of her this morning, hurt and holding back tears, kept surfacing.

The deeper into the back mountain I went, the denser the trees became. Sunlight dappled through the canopy, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and foliage, undercut by a faint, wild musk. I slowed, following a narrow path, ears straining for any sound.

After the time it takes a stick of incense to burn, I heard panicked cries ahead, mixed with a beast's low growl. Ethan's voice! My chest tightened. Without hesitation, I shifted. My black wolf form flashed through the trees as I sprinted toward the noise. My wolf instincts, keenly attuned to danger, quickly pinpointed the source.

In a small clearing ahead, Ethan was crouched against a large tree, clutching a small digging tool, waving it frantically before her. Facing her was a medium-sized lone wolf, eyes glowing green, drool dripping from its jaws, advancing step by step. It had clearly found easy prey.

Ethan's face was deathly pale, her legs trembling violently. She was terrified, yet she held her ground, grip tight on the tool, shouting brokenly, "Stay back! Stay away!"

Seeing her so vulnerable yet so stubborn sent a strange pang through me, quickly replaced by anger. How dare this wretched creature threaten what was under my protection!

I let out a low, menacing growl and launched myself forward, a black bolt of lightning. The lone wolf sensed the threat, whipping around. Seeing my size and aura, fear flashed in its eyes, but it bared its teeth in a final snarl.

I gave it no chance. My jaws closed on its neck. A powerful crunch, and its struggles ceased. It whimpered faintly, then went still. I released it, flinging the carcass aside, and strode toward Ethan, shifting back to my human form.

Ethan remained frozen, tool still raised. Seeing me suddenly appear, she stared, confusion mixing with the lingering terror on her face. Clearly, she hadn't expected me. Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged.

The concern I'd felt hadn't fully dissipated, but my voice came out cold, deliberately harsh. "Who gave you permission to come to the back mountain? It's dangerous. An Omega like you can't handle it. Dying here would just be a nuisance."

I expected excuses, or more of that wounded look. Instead, she just blinked, slowly lowered her tool, and pulled a bundle of fresh, green herbs from the bamboo basket beside her. She held it out carefully. The leaves were serrated, beaded with moisture, releasing a faint, familiar fragrance.

"I… I heard your old shoulder injury hurts when the weather is damp," she said, her voice trembling slightly, tinged with embarrassment, yet holding a thread of hope. "This is mint. Crushed and applied, it can ease the pain. I thought I'd gather some for you…"

Mint?

I stared at the vibrant green herbs, the scent filling my nostrils. My heart gave a sudden, hard thud. This aroma… why was it so familiar? It bore a startling resemblance to the herbal scent I associated with the Moonlight Girl!

My fists clenched unconsciously, knuckles white, a wave of inexplicable panic rising inside me. How? How did she know mint could help old injuries? Why this specific herb? Could it be…?

The thought surfaced, and I violently suppressed it. Impossible! Absolutely impossible! The Moonlight Girl was brave and resolute. This was just a timid Omega. They couldn't be the same person! It was a coincidence. She must have inquired about my injury and was using this to curry favor, to make me accept her!

Frustration and disgust surged back, hotter than before. I cut her off sharply, my voice colder, harsher. "I don't need your false concern!" I stared hard, searching for any hint of guile or calculation in her eyes, but found only pure hope and confusion. "Don't waste your time on these pointless gestures. Stay in your room where you belong. Don't make me worry about you again!"

With that, I turned and strode down the mountain without a backward glance. I was afraid if I stayed, that familiar herbal scent would muddle my thoughts, make me start believing in absurd coincidences. I couldn't waver. My goal was the Moonlight Girl. She was just a stranger, a shackle.

No footsteps followed. No sound. An oppressive silence. But I could imagine her expression—crushed, hurt, perhaps crying silent tears. I didn't look back, didn't slow my pace. I couldn't give her any hope. It would only entangle us both further.

Emerging from the back mountain, the sunlight on my skin did nothing to ease the turmoil inside. The old wound on my shoulder still ached, but the thought of using those herbs never crossed my mind again. The image of Ethan holding out the mint, that familiar scent, replayed in my mind, refusing to fade.

I quickened my pace back to the dens, went straight to my chamber, and shut the door, trying to wall off all thoughts of her. I took out the silver bell, shaking it gently by my ear. The clear chime sounded, and the image of the Moonlight Girl resurfaced in my mind.

"It was a coincidence. Just a coincidence," I whispered to the bell, as if convincing myself. But the seed of doubt had been planted. How did she know about the mint's properties? Was the familiarity I sensed from her really just my imagination?

Just then, Raynor knocked and entered, holding a report. "Wolf King, we captured a Blood Wolf spy at the border. He confessed they plan to infiltrate the dens soon, aiming to steal our defense layouts."

The news instantly cleared my head of all distractions. My gaze sharpened. Compared to tangled personal feelings, the tribe's safety was paramount. I took the report. "Lock the spy up. Interrogate him thoroughly. And increase security around the dens, especially the council hall and where we keep sensitive documents. No mistakes."

"Understood, Wolf King." Raynor acknowledged and left.

Silence returned. I studied the report, my focus entirely on the Blood Wolf threat. Yet, in quiet moments, my mind drifted back to the scene on the mountain, to the mint in Ethan's hand, to the light that had so quickly died in her eyes.

I shook my head sharply, forcing the thoughts down. Don't think about her. She is irrelevant. But I didn't know then that this was only the beginning. In the days to come, her persistent sincerity would chip away at my resolve, making it harder and harder to distinguish what I truly wanted.

Evening brought a light drizzle. The patter of rain against the stone window made a soft, rustling sound. The pain in my shoulder grew sharper than in the morning. Leaning against the stone bed, a fine cold sweat beaded on my forehead. And I thought of the mint in Ethan's hand—perhaps it really would have helped.

But the thought was instantly rejected. I would rather endure the pain than use her herbs, than accept any kindness from her. I grabbed a piece of hide, wrapping it tightly around my shoulder, trying to dull the ache. But my mind kept returning to that bundle of green mint, to the way she had so carefully offered it.

The rain grew heavier. The wolves' howls outside sounded clearer, lonelier. Lying in bed, tossing and turning, sleep wouldn't come. The frustration, the physical pain, the chaotic thoughts of her—all twisted together, making me feel for the first time that this absurd marriage might not be as easy to endure as I had thought.