Kira POV:
The bank card in my hand felt like a talisman, a source of impossible power. I ran back to the Registration Hall. Aiden was waiting, just as I knew he would be. He had a strange certainty about him, as if he never doubted I would return.
The registrar, a stern-faced elder wolf, eyed us both with suspicion, his gaze lingering on our hastily scribbled napkin agreement. "Are you certain about this? A temporary binding, while not a permanent mark, is still witnessed by the Moon Goddess."
The world of wolves was built on such vows. A temporary binding wasn't the soul-deep connection of a fated mate's mark, but it created a real, recognized link.
"I'm certain," I said.
Aiden nodded in agreement.
The registrar sighed and led us to stand beneath a large, silver-leafed portrait of the Moon Goddess.
Just as he was about to begin the vows, Aiden spoke. "Wait."
My heart leaped into my throat. He was going to back out.
But he turned to the registrar, his tone polite but firm. "I request a recording of our vows. As proof for our peaceful dissolution in one year's time."
The registrar paused, surprised. It was an unusual but valid request. He nodded and produced a small, glowing recording crystal.
I stared at Aiden. This was not the action of a desperate, impulsive Rogue. It was the move of a calculated, careful man. The flicker of suspicion returned.
He must have felt my gaze. "I don't want any complications in a year," he explained, his voice low. "Especially not with a... Rogue like me." He used that self-deprecating tone again, and just like that, my doubt was smoothed over.
The ceremony proceeded. We placed our hands on the thick leather of the Pack Code.
"I, Aiden Sterling, willingly take Kira Hayes as my temporary mate," his voice was a low, steady rumble that vibrated through the floor. "Under the watch of the Goddess, I promise to protect and respect her for the duration of our contract."
My turn. I took a shaky breath. "I, Kira Hayes, willingly take Aiden Sterling as my temporary mate... and promise to accept and respect him for the duration of our contract."
As the last word left my lips, the registrar declared, "The binding is complete." A faint silver light shimmered from the portrait, enveloping us for a brief moment.
I felt it. A strange, thin thread spinning into existence between us. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, connecting me to this man.
The ceremony was over. Aiden took the recording crystal and tucked it securely into his pocket.
The whole thing felt like a fever dream, until the shrill ring of my phone shattered the illusion.
It was Zane. My stomach clenched.
"Sis! You have to get to the hospital!" Zane's voice was choked with tears. "It's Grandpa! He... he collapsed! The doctors said it's bad!"
The world went silent. The phone slipped from my numb fingers.
Aiden's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my arm, steadying me. It was the first time we had touched. His skin was warm and solid, a grounding force.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.
I couldn't speak. My throat was tight with panic. I just held the phone out to him.
His eyes scanned the call log, and his expression hardened. He grabbed my wrist, his grip firm and unyielding, and pulled me toward the exit. "To the hospital."
I stumbled after him, my mind a maelstrom of fear. Grandpa can't die. Not now.
At the doors, I dug my heels in, pulling him to a stop.
He turned, his blue eyes questioning.
I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. My grandfather's deepest wish was to see me settled, to know I wouldn't be alone. Maybe...
"Aiden," I pleaded, the word tearing from my throat. "Can you... can you pretend to be my Fated Mate? Just for him. Just so he can have some peace?"
I was exploiting our deal, exploiting the flicker of pity I'd seen in his eyes.
His gaze became impossibly deep, searching mine for something I couldn't name. The silence stretched on, and I was sure he would refuse. It was one thing to be a husband in name, another to play a devoted Fated Mate to a dying man.
Just as I was about to give up, he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"It's part of the contract," he said, his voice flat. "Playing the part. Let's go. Don't keep your grandfather waiting."
He didn't ask another question. He just pulled me out into the street, hailed a cab, and pushed me inside. As the car sped towards the hospital, he turned to me, his expression all business.
"Tell me everything about your grandfather's condition. Every single detail."
He didn't sound like a Rogue. He sounded like a doctor.
