Mated by Contract to the Alpha Chapter 91

Dominic's POV

The moment I heard Rebecca had left the villa, I knew something was wrong. Diana had called me immediately, as instructed, explaining that Ms. Brown had received an urgent call and left in a hurry, saying she needed to meet her friend Sofia.

After what happened at the company with Elizabeth, I wasn't taking any chances. I'd had Raymond discreetly follow her for her protection, keeping at a distance to respect her independence while ensuring her safety. When Raymond reported that she and Sofia were being confronted by Dylan, I dropped everything and headed there immediately, bringing Marcus and another Beta with me.

As I stood at the entrance to the alley, the scene before me made my blood boil. Rebecca was on the ground, pain evident in her face, while Dylan advanced on Sofia. The scent of Rebecca's fear and pain hit me like a physical blow, triggering a surge of protective rage that nearly overwhelmed my control.

"You're wrong," I said, my voice dropping to the register that carried the authority of my position. "I can."

Dylan spun around, his face paling as he recognized me. Behind him, Sofia helped Rebecca to her feet, supporting her as she winced in pain.

"Sterling," Dylan stammered, his previous confidence evaporating. "You... what are you doing here?"

I didn't answer immediately, taking a measured step forward as Marcus and the other Beta flanked me. Raymond remained at the alley entrance, already on his phone, coordinating with our security team.

"Teaching a lesson," I finally said, my voice deceptively calm despite the fury churning inside me. "About respect."

Dylan's eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, but there was none. His partial transformation receded, the amber glow fading from his eyes as self-preservation instincts kicked in.

I glanced at my Betas and gave a simple nod. "Show him."

The two moved with the fluid grace of predators, crossing the distance to Dylan in seconds. The first Beta seized his arm, twisting it behind his back before slamming him face-first into the brick wall. Dylan tried to fight back, but the second Beta delivered a precise elbow strike to his midsection that doubled him over.

I watched coldly as they methodically administered the punishment, each blow calculated to cause pain without leaving permanent damage. Blood ran from Dylan's split lip and nose, his expensive clothes torn and dirty as he eventually crumpled to his knees.

My attention, however, was divided. While part of me needed to ensure Dylan understood the consequences of his actions, my primary concern was Rebecca.

Her face was pale, one arm wrapped protectively around her midsection where her ribs had been injured. The sight of her in pain again sent another wave of fury through me, but I tamped it down, focusing on what needed to be done.

When Dylan was thoroughly subdued, I signaled for the Betas to stop. I walked over to Rebecca, crouching down to examine her for injuries, my hand gentle on her shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice softening considerably from the icy tone I'd used with Dylan.

She shook her head slightly. "Just my ribs. I think I'm okay."

Relief washed through me, quickly followed by renewed anger as I turned back to Dylan. He was on his knees, blood dripping from his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

I approached him slowly, my posture relaxed but radiating dominance. I crouched down to his level, meeting his frightened gaze.

"If you and your entire family don't want to be exiled from our territory," I said, my voice a cold whisper meant only for him, "you'll remember this lesson."

Dylan spat blood onto the pavement. "My father will—"

"Your father?" I cut him off, genuine amusement coloring my tone. "You dare mention your father to me?"

The implication was clear. Dylan's father, while respected in the business world, held nowhere near the influence of my family in the pack hierarchy. The Hurst family were minor players at best, their status derived mainly from financial success rather than bloodline or strength.

I straightened, nodding to Raymond. "Let him go," I ordered. "This was a warning. Next time will be a declaration of war."

Raymond hauled Dylan to his feet, the man groaning in pain as he was forced to stand. "Get out of my sight," I said dismissively. "And if you ever come near either of them again, what happened today will seem like a kindness."

As Dylan limped away, I turned my attention fully to Rebecca and Sofia. Sofia looked shaken but relieved, while Rebecca's expression was more complex—relief mingled with something that looked like... guilt?

"Raymond," I said, "escort Sophia back to her office."

Sofia nodded gratefully, squeezing Rebecca's hand before following Raymond out of the alley. When they were gone, I turned to Rebecca, my concern evident in my voice.

"You should have told me about this," I said quietly. "Why didn't you call me the moment Sofia contacted you?"

Rebecca 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,' Rebecca," 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 that later.

"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 the lake 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 Rebecca's discomfort, both physical and emotional. Diana had told me that Rebecca 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 villa in a hurry," I finally said, breaking the silence. "I had security follow you for protection."

Rebecca turned to look at me, her expression a mix of surprise and something that looked like frustration. "You had me followed?"

"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 problems."

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

"Your problems are my problems," I said simply, though the words felt inadequate to express what I truly meant.

We lapsed back into silence for the remainder of the drive. When we arrived at the lake, I helped her from the car, noting how she tried to hide her discomfort as she moved.

"You should go back to the hospital later," I said, my voice tight with concern. "You may have reinjured your ribs."

Rebecca shook her head. "I'm fine. It just hurts a little."

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 Dylan's threats? Why do you consistently refuse to let me know when you're in danger?"

Rebecca's eyes flashed with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "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" landed hard in my chest. Contract. After everything we'd shared, after the mate bond had formed between us, she still saw our relationship as a business arrangement with an expiration date.

My breath caught in my throat. Last night, when she had marked me, completing the mate bond between us, I had felt a joy and completion I'd never experienced before. My wolf had howled in ecstasy, finally accepting 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 relationship 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 the lake, unable to let her see the raw pain in my eyes. My jaw clenched so tight it ached, and my shoulders went rigid as the word "contract" stabbed through my heart like an icy blade. 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 claimed, what she'd become 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, Rebecca," I said, forcing my voice to flatten, to drain every ounce of the longing and hurt that threatened to break through.