ANTONIO DE LUCA The Rejected Alpha’s Contract

People from different regions and packs gathered in our territory tonight, at the very top of our mountain, to celebrate and witness a mating. The Harold Haralson pack was uniting with the Carlson Jorgensen pack through my arranged mating, procured by my father. Carlson was known to be a cruel alpha, but that hadn't stopped my father from gifting me to him like a prized pig. Tonight, I was supposed to walk out of this room, lie down, and let the brutish prick mount me in a pergola in front of our packs and guests.

I could think of a thousand other things I'd rather do, one of which was to swallow razor blades and shit them out. If everything unfolded correctly, by this time tomorrow, Carlson and my father would both be dead. They deserved what was coming to them. My concern was that I hadn't been allowed outside of the room in the last twenty-four hours and could not ensure everything was happening according to plan.

My gaze slid to Toralei's, meeting it briefly in the mirror where I sat preparing for the mating. The dress Carlson gave me to wear was flimsy with sheer material, allowing all the guests to see what would belong to Carlson tonight. The only comfort I had was the lace bralette he allowed me to wear, which, thankfully, covered both breasts. My panties had enough material barely to cover my rump, but at least my sex was shielded.

The mating ritual was an ancient rite that allowed those who had traveled to witness the mating couple, ensuring they had honored the age-old tradition between packs. I'd begged my father to prevent the public spectacle from occurring, but those pleas had fallen on deaf ears. I'd known he wouldn't stop it, but it had been worth a shot.

"It's time," one of Carlson's betas who had been left in charge of my care, informed.

I stood from the stool, stealing one last glance at myself in the mirror. My eyes were covered in smoky eyeshadow and dark eyeliner meant to make my soft blue eyes pop, yet it couldn't make them sparkle. My lips were slathered in a deep red lipstick that I wouldn't have ever chosen to wear on my own, and I fought the urge to wipe it from my mouth. It was more makeup than I preferred, but Carlson's harem was charged with preparing me for their alpha and appeared to take pleasure in my distress.

Tonight wasn't a celebration. It was a tragedy. I already had a mate, one I'd pushed away and rejected to keep safe from my father and my demons. Saint Kingsley had been a shock to my senses and the last person I'd ever predicted the wolf god, Fenrir, to choose for my soul mate. The one summer we'd had together had been the first time I'd ever felt alive.

Saint was rough around the edges and older than me. His group of misfits had driven me crazy with their antics to fit in and become part of the pack, which my father had unfortunately noticed. Saint was an orphan, and I was considered untouchable since my father was our pack's alpha. Saint was the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, yet I'd wanted him with every single part of my soul. Saint brought me to life, and in the same breath, he'd made me crave things I'd never wanted or even thought possible.