Mated by Contract to the Alpha


    <b>Chapter </b><b>138 </b>


    Sofia nodded gratefully, squeezing Reba’s hand before following Raymond out of the alley. When they were gone, I turned to Reba<b>, </b>my concern evident in my voice.


    “You should <b>have </b>told me about this,” I said quietly. “Why didn’t you call me the moment Sofia contacted you?”


    Reba looked away. “I didn’t want to bother you with more problems. You’ve been so busy with pack business, and


    “Your safety is never a ‘bother,‘ Reba,” I interrupted, unable to keep the frustration from my voice. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Come. We need to talk, and not here.”


    Without waiting for her response, I guided her to my car, parked just around the corner. As I opened the door for her, I noticed how she winced slightly, her hand pressing against her side. The sight rekindled my anger, but I forced it down. There would be time for thatter.


    “Where are we going?” she asked as I slid into the driver’s seat beside her.


    “Somewhere private,” I answered, starting the engine. “Somewhere we can talk without interruption.”


    I headed out of the city, toward theke house where we had spent that transformative night together. The forest preserve was private property belonging to my family, a sanctuary where we could speak freely about matters that couldn’t be discussed in public.


    The drive was mostly silent. I could sense Reba’s difort, both physical and emotional. Diana had told me that Reba had left immediately after receiving Sofia’s call, without waiting to inform me. The thought that she would face danger without turning to me for help twisted something painful in my chest.


    “Diana told me you left the vi in a hurry,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “I had security follow you for protection.”


    Reba turned to look at me, her expression a mix of surprise and something that looked like frustration. “You had me followed<b>?</b>”


    “I had you protected,” I corrected, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.


    She sighed, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want you to always have to solve my <b>problems</b>.”


    The statement hit me harder than it should have. Was that how she saw me<b>? </b><b>As </b>someone who solved her <b>problems </b>rather than <b>as </b>her mate, her partner?


    “Your <b>problems </b>are my problems<b>,</b><b>” </b>I said simply, though the words felt inadequate to <b>express </b>what I truly meant.


    <b>9:01 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>25 </b><b>B </b>


    …


    Wepsed back into silence for the remainder of the drive. When we arrived at theke, I helped her from the car, noting how she tried to hide her difort as she moved.


    “You should go back to the hospitalter,” I said, my voice tight with concern. “You may have reinjured your ribs.”


    Reba shook her head. “I’m fine. It just hurts a little.”


    <b>93 </b>


    I wanted to argue, to insist that she get proper medical attention, but the stubborn set of her jaw told me it would


    be futile.


    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I finally demanded, turning to face her. “Why didn’t you call me the moment Sofia told you about Dn’s threats? Why do you consistently refuse to let me know when you’re in danger?”


    Reba’s eyes shed with a mix of defiance and vulnerability<b>. </b>“You’ve already done so much for me, Dominic. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” She paused, then added quietly, “And besides, when the contract is over, no one


    will be there to protect me anymore.”


    I froze. The word “contract”nded hard in my chest. Contract. After everything we’d shared, after the mate bond had formed between us, she still saw our rtionship as a business arrangement with an expiration date.


    My breath caught in my throat. Last night, when she had marked me,pleting the mate bond between us, I had felt a joy andpletion I’d never experienced before. My wolf had howled in ecstasy, finally epting what I had denied for so long. But she didn’t know what she had done. She had no idea that her instinctive bite had bound us together in the most profound way possible for my kind.


    And now, hearing her refer to our rtionship as a contract, I understood the painful truth. She didn’t feel what I felt. To her, this was still temporary, still conditional.


    I turned away, facing theke, unable to let her see the raw pain in my eyes. My jaw clenched so tight it ached, and my shoulders went rigid <b>as </b>the word “contract” stabbed through my heart like an icy de, I felt betrayed, foolish, exposed. My right hand moved to the mark on my neck–her mark–fingers trembling as they traced the indentations her teeth had left. The skin still tingled under my touch, sensitive and warm. And she had no idea what she’d done, what she’d imed, what she’d be to me. The mark pulsed beneath my fingers, mocking me with its


    permanence while she spoke of temporary arrangements.


    The decision crystallized in my mind, cold and final. I would end this–not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I couldn’t trap her in a world she viewed as temporary, bind her to a man she saw as a contract partner. I loved her too much to make her stay out of duty. The thought tore at something vital inside me, but I pushed the pain down. She deserved her freedom, her human life, her choice. Not a world of pack politics and ancient rituals she never asked to join. Not me.


    “Maybe you’re right, Reba,” I said, forcing my voice to tten, to drain every ounce of the longing and hurt that threatened to break through.