EVER FITZPATRICK POV:

The car moved smoothly through the night, the silence inside broken only by my breathing and the steady presence of Alistair. The Alpha aura he radiated, though contained, was a palpable pressure in the small space.

I couldn't understand why a man of his stature would seek out a girl who had nothing.

"Miss Fitzpatrick, do you know my grandson, Kaelen?" Alistair finally spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Kaelen? The name struck me like lightning. The heir to the Beaumont Pack. The legendary Alpha who was said to be powerful, ruthless, and almost never seen in public. Of course I'd heard of him.

"I've... heard the name," I answered cautiously. "But I don't know him."

"No matter," Alistair said, his knuckles tapping lightly on the wolf-head cane. "You will soon."

He retrieved a file from a leather briefcase beside him and handed it to me. "This is an agreement."

I took it. In the fleeting light from the streetlamps, I read the title at the top: Marriage and Caregiving Agreement.

Marriage? I looked at Alistair in disbelief, certain I had misread.

"My eldest grandson, Kaelen, was gravely injured in an ambush a few months ago," Alistair said, a flicker of pain in his voice. "The attackers used silver-laced weapons. It has forced his inner wolf into dormancy, and his body... into a coma."

Silver. In the world of werewolves, it was the most vicious of curses. It didn't just destroy the body; it imprisoned the soul. A truth every wolf knows: silver is the only thing that can truly kill us.

"The Pack's Healer and every doctor we've consulted are at a loss," he continued. "But our Elders have found one last resort in the ancient texts—a Mating-bond healing ritual."

The words sounded like something from a dark fairy tale.

"The ritual requires his fated mate to bind with him through marriage, to use her life force to awaken his slumbering wolf and consciousness." Alistair's eyes locked onto mine. "And you, Ever Fitzpatrick, are the one the Moon Goddess has chosen for him."

Me? Kaelen Beaumont's fated mate? That was absurd. I'd never even met the man. The rules were clear: fated mates feel an undeniable recognition the first time they meet. I had never felt anything like that.

"No, that's impossible," I blurted out. "I've never felt... the recognition."

"Because Kaelen's Alpha scent has been completely suppressed by the silver poisoning. And you," Alistair looked at me, "your Omega scent is so faint, you're almost like a human. You are like two receivers with their signals blocked. Only the oldest ritual can force the connection."

His words stunned me into silence. An Omega? I had always thought I was just a regular, maybe even genetically flawed, wolfless girl.

"The terms of the agreement are simple," Alistair said, gesturing to the document in my hands. "You marry Kaelen. You care for him as his wife until he awakens. In return, the Beaumont family will pay you five million dollars."

Five million dollars. The number exploded in my mind.

That money could pay for Grandma Maeve's surgery. It could get her the best care imaginable. It could set us up for life.

But the price was marrying a man I'd never met, a man in a coma, to perform a ritual that sounded like a sacrifice.

"Why would you think I'd agree to this?" I found my voice, though it trembled.

"Because you have no other options, Miss Fitzpatrick," Alistair stated, his tone devoid of emotion. "Your grandmother Maeve needs money for her surgery. You just lost your job. That useless boy Ethan has caused you trouble, which I will handle. But your predicament is something only I can solve."

He knew everything. My desperation. My weakness.

"I need time to think," I said, pushing the agreement back toward him. As tempting as five million dollars was, my dignity screamed at me not to sell my life so easily.

"Very well." Alistair didn't press. "Keep the agreement. Give me your answer by tomorrow evening."

The car stopped in front of my dilapidated apartment building. It was a world away from the Laurel Hotel, from this Bentley.

"Miss Fitzpatrick," Alistair said before I got out. "I suggest you visit Kaelen at St. Mary's Hospital. He's in the intensive care unit. Perhaps seeing him will make your decision easier."

I didn't answer. I just took the heavy agreement and fled from the car.

Leaning against the cold brick of my building, I watched the Bentley disappear into the night. The thin file in my hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. My mind was a chaotic storm of my grandmother's face, a comatose husband, and five million dollars.