Bonded to My Ex's Alpha Brother Chapter 193

Derek's POV

I sat in my study, staring at the documents piled on my desk, but my mind couldn't focus on them. Enforcer Raymond was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. I remembered recommending him for the position years ago—the young man's eyes had shone with gratitude when I selected him. He'd promised to dedicate himself to the pack, and he had. Now that loyalty had been rewarded with illness, and as Alpha, I couldn't just abandon him.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of leadership pressing down on me. Between Raymond's condition and Erin—my soul mate who was about to bind herself to Alexander—my control was slipping. The thought of her with him made my wolf snarl inside me, clawing to get out.

"Raymond has been taken to the best hospital," Tom reported. "I've arranged for the top medical team to care for him." He paused before adding, "I also escorted Mya back to her room. She was quite intoxicated."

I nodded silently, gesturing for him to continue.

Tom hesitated, then asked carefully, "What happened after you met with Erin and Cassandra?"

I looked up, keeping my face deliberately blank. "Nothing happened." I wasn't about to admit how seeing Erin had affected me, how her scent still lingered in my mind, how watching her dance with other men had driven me half-mad with jealousy.

Tom took a deep breath, seemingly gathering courage. "Alpha, I know you. For four years, you've had feelings for Erin Blackwood. You can't deny it. And now, she's about to marry Alexander."

I felt my eyes flash gold—my wolf responding to the mention of Erin with another man. I stood abruptly, fists clenched, fighting for control. "Why can't everyone leave me alone for one day? I'm already confused enough. I'm doing things I shouldn't be doing. I came here to think clearly about everything."

The truth was, I couldn't think clearly about anything when it came to Erin. She clouded my judgment, made me question decisions I'd made years ago. Made me want things I couldn't have.

Tom wasn't intimidated by my outburst. Instead, he calmly asked, "Tell me, how do you plan to stop Erin's binding ceremony with Alexander? You can't cancel your engagement to Mya. She will be the Luna of the Darkwood Pack."

I was silent for a moment, an idea forming in my mind. Then, suddenly, I commanded, "Tom, bring me that contract."

Tom's face immediately paled. "What? Alpha, you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk. Do as I say. I just want to check something." My tone left no room for argument. I needed to see that contract—needed to know if there was any loophole, any way out.

Tom hesitated, then walked to the hidden safe behind the club's bar. He entered the code and removed a folder labeled "Compensation Agreement." He handed it to me with obvious trepidation, fear evident in his eyes.

I took the folder, noticing his reaction. "What are you afraid of? I'm perfectly sober."

As I saw the word "Compensation," I felt my eyes flash with golden wolf light, memories flooding back. That agreement from years ago, when Alexander's grandfather was still alive and our two packs had signed this contract. My jaw tightened as I remembered.

"You're my Beta. Stop acting so skittish," I growled, annoyed by his fear.

As I read deeper into the contract, my anger grew with each line. Finally, I spat, "The old bastard really had a system." I threw the folder onto the desk, disgusted by what I'd read.

Tom quickly returned the folder to its place, saying quietly, "Alexander's grandfather was an idiot."

"Yes, he was," I agreed, "but Alexander Windsor is worse."

I lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag in an attempt to calm my rising fury.

"This is why I told you not to look at the contract again. It ruins your mood," Tom advised. "You can't cancel your engagement, Alpha. This binding contract once saved you."

I felt my eyes glint dangerously, murderous intent rising inside me. "Alexander got his freedom. It seems I'll have to send him back where he belongs. I wish I had killed him that day." The memory of our confrontation years ago, when I'd had the chance to end him but hadn't, now felt like a mistake.

"You weren't Alpha then," Tom reminded me.

I laughed coldly. "Now I am the Alpha of the Darkwood Pack, and his grandfather isn't around anymore to look after his precious Alexander. Who's going to protect him from me?"

Tom observed my expression as I talked about Alexander, warning, "Alpha, the binding ceremony is crucial for our pack. If you back out, the consequences will be severe. It could even be a matter of life and death."

I closed my eyes, contemplating. For a pack Alpha, backing down meant losing status, possibly even death. But the thought of Erin binding herself to Alexander was unbearable.

Tom continued, "I'm forbidden to discuss this further. If I do, I'll have to speak with Erin myself."

I knew what he was thinking—that he didn't want Erin to leave me, but she'd chosen Alexander. What he didn't understand was that I wasn't going to let her go so easily. Not this time.

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Erin's POV

I paced restlessly around my home in the Darkwood Pack territory, mentally counting the days until Alexander would return. Since that uncomfortable dance with Derek at the club a week ago, he'd been harassing me—sending lavish gifts to my doorstep daily. There were priceless jewels, limited-edition bags, and even a custom dress disturbingly similar to the one I wore to my high school graduation dance. This indicated not only was he watching me, but he knew my past—a thought that sent chills down my spine.

I'd chosen to leave all the gift boxes piled on the porch, unopened. But I couldn't miss the longing in my mother's eyes, her silent wish that I would accept these offerings from the Alpha. In wolf society, being favored by the Alpha was a tremendous honor, especially for an Omega family like ours. What she didn't understand was that every one of Derek's actions had calculation behind it.

Even more infuriating, Derek was actively preventing me from obtaining my transfer certificate from Silver Moon Academy. Yesterday when I approached the dean about it, he nervously informed me that "due to orders from above," my certificate was being withheld. I nearly laughed at how obvious it was—Derek Stone was using his power to stop me from gaining my freedom.

Today was the academy's administrative meeting day, and I'd decided to confront the dean directly about my certificate. I dressed carefully—a beige blouse with a navy pencil skirt, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. I wanted to look professional and determined, to make it clear how serious I was about this matter.

"I'm getting that damn transfer certificate no matter who's trying to stop me," I muttered to my reflection, then took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and left the house.