CHAPTER 43: A SECRET BARGAIN

What the hell did he just say?

A mate?

The word jolted through me like a whip, leaving my skin prickling and my stomach dropping.

I must have misheard him, I convinced myself.

"You didn’t mishear it," Leika said.

There was no way he could mean it. Not seriously.

My lips parted, my voice hoarse with disbelief. "I don’t intend to play jokes with you, Alpha."

He regarded me in silence for a moment, his crimson eyes holding mine, amused.

Then, with maddening calm, he shook his head and lifted the wine glass to his lips.

"Do you think I am playing the jester here?" His mouth curved faintly as he sipped. "You think too poorly of me."

I stared at him, my heart racing so hard it hurt.

He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t.

My father... My father wasn’t perfect. He had been strict, harsh in ways that still stung when I remembered them. But I knew, deep down, I knew... he loved me in his own way. He wouldn’t have sold me to this man.

But the Alpha’s words came, breaking my faith.

"We had a bargain some time ago," he said. "He traded you for something he wanted. And I accepted the bargain."

The ground tilted beneath me. My breath came sharp, shallow. I shook my head, refusing to let it sink in.

"My father died three years ago. Why didn’t you come for me then if that’s true? Why now?"

His answer was simple. "Because I didn’t need a bride back then."

I barked out a scoff that felt like it tore my throat raw.

"And right now, you do?" My voice dripped with mockery. "Don’t tell me you are also in need of an heir?"

The sneer on my lips was a mask, but beneath it, my stomach twisted.

We both knew what Finn had planned for me in the Heirbind Rite: to use me as nothing more than a vessel, a breeder. Was this any different?

But Rion only chuckled under his breath.

"No, no," he said lightly, shaking his head. "I still intend to rule for many decades. I don’t really need an heir." His tone carried the confidence of a man who knew his power would not falter, who believed time itself bowed to him. And perhaps it did.

He was the Alpha of Undercity—stronger, darker, and more feared than any other.

He leaned against the railing, tilting his head as his voice dropped lower.

"But I made a promise to my mother that I would find a mate before the year ends. The chosen mate will be my bride."

I blinked, stunned.

Of all the reasons he could have given, this... this absurd, shallow answer was the one he offered? My lips parted, but no words came.

My mind reeled.

No. I refused to believe it was that simple. Nothing about him was simple.

He looked too composed, too calculating, his eyes glinting with schemes behind every word.

He couldn’t be a man who lived on promises of sentiment. Every instinct screamed at me not to trust what he said.

"Why?" My voice broke the silence at last. "Why would you promise her that?"

Something flickered in his expression then. His smile faded, replaced by a shadow that tightened his jaw. His eyes turned inward, as if staring at something long buried.

"Because it was her dying wish," he said finally, his voice lower. "She asked it of me before she passed, years ago." He exhaled, the sound heavier than his usual smooth cadence.

But my eyes narrowed, seeing through the façade.

"She didn’t want me to be left alone, not after losing her. Not after losing the last of my family."

For the first time, there was something human in him. Something that almost ached. But his eyes couldn’t hide his scheming character. He was toying at me. I wasn’t the smartest, but I was smart enough to be able to tell that.

And I guessed he noticed I wasn’t buying it. Because for a split second, I could have sworn I saw a ghost of smile on his lips.

"Why me, then? Of all the women you could have chosen, why me? What’s the bargain between you and my father?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, and the shadow of grief slipped back into a smirk.

"So many questions." He straightened, shaking his glass of wine slightly. "And yet none of them with answers you’ll find useful."

My pulse spiked. He was playing with me. Avoiding. Skirting around the truth like a wolf circling prey, knowing it was trapped.

"You won’t answer me," I said bitterly.

"I already did," he replied smoothly. "Just not in the way you hoped."

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, anger and fear warring within me.

My father... what had he bargained for that was worth his daughter’s hand? The thought made bile rise in my throat.

I drew in a sharp breath and said firmly, "I don’t want to be anyone’s mate."

Why would I cage myself again? I had just clawed free of Finn’s grasp, just torn myself from the chains of his Rite.

To throw myself willingly into another prison, Rion’s prison, was unthinkable.

For all I knew, Finn’s cruelty had been only a glimpse of what this Alpha was capable of.

He had burned Finn’s lands as though it were nothing. What else lay beneath his calm, controlled exterior? What horrors had I not yet seen?

How could I stomach being his chosen mate?

He tilted his head, and for the first time his smile was edged with disdain, cold and sharp.

"Do you even have a choice at this point?"

My heart lurched, but I forced my face still.

He took a slow step forward, his crimson gaze holding mine with chilling intensity.

"You don’t have a pack. Finn will hunt you to the ends of the earth. And the other packs? Do you truly believe they would shelter you, after you betrayed an Alpha during an important rite?" His voice hardened. "You have nowhere else to go, Vivien Maliore."

The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver through me.

My nails dug into my palms so deeply it hurt.

My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. He was right, every word of it cut with the weight of truth.

And I hated it.

His voice softened again, though no less commanding. "Unlike being Finn’s breeder, you won’t be treated like a lowly rat here. You will have your place. You may do whatever you wish." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Except, of course, defy my rules."

A chill swept over me. His rules. What rules? What cage did he intend to lock me in?

But before I could ask, he waved a hand as though brushing the thought aside.

"Fret not," he said lightly. "The year’s end is still months away. You have plenty of time to think about it."