Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Blind Commander

Alannah POV:

Silver Peak's heir, Elton Rosa, broke our betrothal to marry Cinthia Nichols. Today I walked into the High Council-not to beg him back, but to demand a marriage blood-oath with Knox Delaney, Commander of Blackthorn, the man Elton despises most. They all think I have lost my mind. I have my own reasons.

The oak doors of the mediation chamber were heavy, but I shoved them open anyway. Elton was already there, sprawled on a velvet sofa with Cinthia tucked against his side. Her lily perfume hit me before I got close, sweet enough to turn my stomach.

"Sign the damn papers, Elton."

He lifted his chin, smoothing the lapels of his navy suit. "Still so impatient, Alannah. You lack the grace of a Luna. Then again, what can anyone expect from a wolfless merchant?"

"I didn't come here to trade insults with a parasite." I dropped my leather folder on the table and sat. "Where is the dissolution contract?"

Elder Augusta stepped out from the shadows by the arched windows, both hands resting on a silver cane. "Under tribal custom, since Silver Peak initiated the severance, House Morgan is entitled to formal settlement demands."

Elton laughed and tapped his sapphire signet ring against the table. "Demands? House Morgan exists because my pack sheltered your family's trading houses after your father died. She has nothing to demand."

"I'm not asking for scraps." I met his sneer with a cold stare. "I'm claiming my right to a replacement alliance. I want a marriage blood-oath with Supreme Commander Knox Delaney."

Cinthia burst into a shrill giggle. "Knox Delaney? The blind cripple whose inner wolf was shattered by silver blades? You must be truly desperate."

Elton shoved up from the sofa, his chair screeching back. His Alpha aura rolled off him in a hot, stifling wave. Against someone with no wolf, it was a cheap trick-it only made the room feel stuffy. "You'd marry a blind invalid just to spite me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I prefer Blackthorn's quiet dignity over the stench of your hypocrisy."

Augusta struck his cane against the floor. "Lady Alannah, Commander Delaney's condition is well known. Such an alliance requires his consent and high legislative clearance."

I pulled out a gold-embossed asset certificate and slid it to the base of his cane. "What if Morgan Trust pledges twenty percent of our commercial bank revenues over the next three years to federal border defense?"

Augusta leaned down. His cloudy eyes widened as he read the figure. His breath hitched, and his dry fingers trembled over the embossed seal.

Elton leaned over the table, trying to glimpse the numbers. "What is that? Let me see!"

Augusta covered the document with his palm. "You possess this level of liquid reserves? You can authorize such a transfer without board interference?"

"I'm the sole executor of House Morgan's trust," I said. "I don't need a board's permission. In exchange, I want a High Feudal Lady patent, signed by the Alpha King himself. Absolute immunity from pack asset seizure."

"That is impossible!" Cinthia shrieked. "She is a wolfless nobody! How can she be granted high lord sovereignty?"

I rose, palms flat on the table. "Because in a modern federation, gold buys the weapons your warriors carry. Wealth makes the rules. Bloodlines just beg for it."

Augusta stood frozen for nearly thirty seconds, staring at the ledger. The federal defense budget had been bleeding dry for years. Finally, the old wolf bowed his head. "I will present this directly to the Alpha King. The Council accepts your terms."

Elton's face went pale. He looked at Augusta as though the world had tilted.

I grabbed the dissolution contract, signed it in sharp strokes, and tossed it across the table. The thick paper sliced across Elton's knuckles, drawing a thin bead of blood.

"I will see you crawl back to Silver Peak before the next moon, Alannah!" he snarled.

I picked up my bag and walked out. "Mind your manners, heir Rosa. You are addressing the future Lady of the Blackthorn Pack."

Outside, Tessa draped a wool coat over my shoulders. "Did it go smoothly, ma'am?"

"Get in touch with Arthur Sterling. Begin auditing every outstanding loan issued to the Silver Peak Pack."

"Right away."

We walked to the curb. A black armored Maybach waited. I slid inside, the door sealing out the city noise. As the car pulled away, I looked out the tinted window. On the far street corner, half-hidden by morning fog, stood a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark overcoat. A strip of pitch-black silk covered his eyes, but his face was turned precisely toward my passing car.