The Secret Alpha King's Unexpected Contract Mate

ELARA HAYES POV:

The old wooden door of the Cedar Creek Lodge burst open with a violent crack.

A blast of icy wind and snow tore through the lobby, extinguishing the small warmth from the fireplace. It felt like a beast's dying breath, and I shot up from my stool behind the front desk.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

A tall, broad figure stumbled inside, his expensive black coat splattered with mud and something dark, something wet.

Blood.

He slammed the heavy door shut, one hand pressed tight against his stomach where the dark stain was spreading, seeping between his fingers. The scent of pine, cold air, and fresh blood filled the small space, thick and metallic.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a scream. My fingers trembled, hovering over the silent alarm button hidden beneath the counter.

Then he looked at me.

His eyes were a startling silver-gray, cold and sharp as shards of ice, filled with a warning that froze the scream in my throat.

Faint shouts and the crunch of boots on snow echoed from outside. They were searching for him.

His gaze flicked from my face to the rack of keys hanging on the wall behind me. The key to my small employee room.

Before I could process it, he was moving. He vaulted over the counter in a single, fluid motion that defied his injury. His sheer size blotted out the dim lobby lights, and his scent overwhelmed me—cedar, blood, and an aggressive, masculine power that made my knees weak.

His strong hand clamped around my wrist. A jolt, like lightning, shot up my arm.

"Your room. Where is it?" His voice was a low, guttural rasp, laced with an authority that vibrated through my bones.

It was the Alpha's Command.

In my pack, the Blackrock Pack, an Alpha's command was law to an Omega like me. Though I had no idea who this man was, the primal power in his voice bypassed all thought, leaving only instinctual submission. My legs threatened to give out.

Shaking, I could only point a trembling finger down the short, dark hallway.

He didn't wait for me to walk. He half-dragged, half-carried me, his body a furnace of heat and pain against mine. I could feel the unsteady rhythm of his breathing, the tremor of blood loss running through him.

He snatched the key, shoved it into the lock, and pushed me inside my own room. He followed, kicking the door shut and throwing the bolt.

The tiny space was instantly suffocating, filled with his presence, his scent, his danger.

Footsteps stopped right outside my door. I held my breath, my blood turning to ice.

"Anyone in there? Forest Patrol," a gruff voice called out. "We're hunting a dangerous intruder."

The man pulled me back against his chest, hard. My back hit his solid, searing-hot torso. One arm snaked around my waist, locking me in place. The other hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my panicked gasp.

His lips brushed against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. Goosebumps erupted across my arms.

"Pretend you're my mate," he whispered, the words a shocking command that detonated in my mind. "And we're... busy."

My brain went blank.

The knocking grew louder, more insistent. "Open up! Routine check!"

He shifted, his hand moving from my mouth to cup my jaw, forcing my head back. In the dim light filtering through the thin curtains, I saw his face for the first time. He was brutally handsome, with a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow.

His silver eyes held mine, a silent, menacing order. He let out a loud, deliberate groan, pressing his body more firmly against mine, pinning me to the door.

Terrified, I let out a small, trembling whimper. It sounded pathetic, but to the men outside, it must have sounded like the complaint of someone being pleasurably interrupted.

A curse from the hallway. "Sorry to bother you."

The footsteps retreated, fading into the howl of the wind.

Only when they were gone did he release me. My legs gave way, and I slid down the door to the floor, gasping for air.

He leaned against the opposite wall, the wound in his abdomen weeping fresh blood. He ignored it, his intense silver eyes studying me.

I thought he might kill me. Silence me.

Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a card. It was made of some kind of black metal, completely bare except for an ancient, stylized wolf emblem etched into its surface.

He pushed off the wall, crouched in front of me, and pressed the cold metal into my trembling hand.

"Thanks for tonight." His voice was still cold, but the raw command was gone.

"If you ever run into trouble you can't handle," he said, his voice dropping lower, "contact it."

Before I could ask how, before I could even form a word, he was at the window. He slid it open, and with a grace that was terrifying, he was gone, swallowed by the blizzard.

I sat there on the floor, my hand clenched around the cold, black card. It seemed to hold the residual heat of his body.

My heart was still trying to beat its way out of my chest. Part of it was fear.

But another part, a strange, unfamiliar flutter deep inside me, was something else entirely. It was the first time I had ever been that close to an Alpha. His scent felt like it had been branded onto my soul.

I stumbled to the window. There was nothing but swirling snow. It was as if he had never been there at all.

I looked down at the card in my hand. The wolf emblem... I was sure I'd seen it before, in one of the old books.

It represented something ancient. Something supreme.