Contract Over: I Rejected My Alpha Husband First

Niklaus stared at Freya, utterly stunned. Three years of marriage, and she had never dared speak to him like this before. She had always been the perfect Luna. Dutiful and polite.

"What did you just say?" he asked. His voice was dangerously low.

Freya crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to back down.

"I said your smell makes me sick."

Even in the hospital, Rebekah hadn't given up her luxurious lifestyle, filling her entire room with citrus-scented aromatherapy. Niklaus didn't understand Rebekah's behavior, but she insisted it helped stabilize her emotions, so he'd stopped questioning it. he had no idea this was Rebekah's deliberate provocation against Freya.

His jaw clenched like a steel trap. "I was at the hospital."

"For hours? Does comforting her require you to bathe in her perfume?" Freya raised an eyebrow with cutting sarcasm. "Or were you doing more than just comforting?"

Niklaus took a menacing step forward. "Watch your fucking tongue."

"Or what?" Freya challenged, refusing to give an inch. "You'll punish me? Our contract is over, Niklaus. I can say whatever I want."

He reached for his shirt buttons with deliberate slowness. He loosened them one by one while staring at her. This action had once made her heart flutter. Now it made her want to scream.

"Help me undress," he ordered. He had said this hundreds of times before.

"Help yourself," Freya replied with ice in her voice. "I'm not your personal servant."

Niklaus's eyes narrowed to slits. He stalked to the bathroom without another word. He slammed the door so hard the frame shook. The sound of the shower running followed moments later.

Freya exhaled shakily. The adrenaline coursing through her body made her tremble.

She opened the closet to find something to sleep in. Then she froze in horror. All her modest pajamas were gone. They had been replaced by silky negligees and sheer nightgowns. One black lace piece had a plunging neckline that would leave nothing to imagination.

A note was pinned to it in Margaret's elegant handwriting: "For a special night."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Freya muttered.

Margaret was desperate for grandchildren. Three years of marriage with no pregnancy had obviously driven her to desperate measures.

In wolf culture, cubs strengthened pack bonds. A child from fated mates would be considered invaluable.

Freya sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching the silky garment in her trembling hands. How many sleepless nights had she spent dreaming of having Niklaus's children? But the cold reality of their loveless arrangement had always crushed those dreams. How could she bring an innocent child into this emotional wasteland?

The bathroom door opened with a bang. Steam poured out like fog. Niklaus emerged with only a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. Water droplets clung to his sculpted chest like jewels.

His eyes fell to the negligee clutched in her hands. Then they moved to her face. His expression turned absolutely lethal.

"Planning to seduce me into signing those divorce papers?" he asked. His voice dripped with venom. "Is that your pathetic strategy now?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Freya shot back with equal venom. "Your mother replaced all my sleepwear with these ridiculous things."

She tossed the negligee onto the bed like it was contaminated. She walked to his dresser and pulled out one of his white shirts. She held it up and examined it before nodding in satisfaction.

"This will do perfectly."

Niklaus's eyes went completely black. "Put that back. Now."

"No." Freya turned her back to him and began unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Changing. Turn around if you're too shy to watch."

She heard his sharp intake of breath but didn't stop. She slipped her blouse off with fluid grace, then her skirt. She stood in only her underwear. She didn't look to see if he was watching. She didn't need to. She could feel his gaze burning into her skin like fire.

Freya pulled his shirt over her head. It fell to mid-thigh. The shirt covered her adequately but revealed more leg than her usual nightwear. She turned to face him and lifted her chin in pure defiance.

Niklaus's eyes were darker than a moonless night. His pupils were completely dilated. His knuckles were bone-white where he gripped his towel.

"Happy now?" she asked with arctic coolness.

"That's my shirt," he growled like a wild animal.

"And this is still my bedroom too," she countered. "Unless you'd prefer I sleep completely naked?"

His jaw worked frantically as he fought for control. Finally, he turned away abruptly. He grabbed clothes from his dresser and disappeared into the bathroom again.

---

In the kitchen, Margaret hummed cheerfully as she stirred a pot of soup. The rich aroma filled the air--it smelled of chicken broth and mysterious herbs.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Luna Lockwood?" Olivia asked nervously. She watched her former Luna add a small vial of amber liquid to the soup. "Alpha Niklaus has an incredibly sensitive nose."

"That's exactly why I added extra garlic and herbs," Margaret replied with complete confidence. "It's a family recipe."

"But if he finds out..."

"What's he going to do? Yell at his old mother?" Margaret laughed and continued stirring. "Besides, they're fated mates. Sometimes mates just need a little... chemical encouragement. Their wolves know exactly what they want, but these two are too damn stubborn."

She poured the soup into two elegant bowls.

"If Alpha Niklaus asks, I'll take full responsibility," Margaret assured the nervous servant. "Trust me. By morning, they'll be thanking me profusely."

Olivia still looked terrified. "But Luna Freya seemed so furious..."

"Passion is passion, whether it manifests as anger or love." Margaret winked conspiratorially. "Besides, I raised that stubborn boy. I know exactly what he needs."

She lifted the tray with purpose. "Now, let me deliver this personally."

---

A sharp knock on the bedroom door shattered the tense silence. Freya had been sitting rigidly on one side of the bed. She looked up as Margaret entered with theatrical cheerfulness.

"I thought you two might be hungry," Margaret announced with suspicious brightness. "I made my special chicken soup."

Niklaus was now dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. He frowned suspiciously at his mother. "We already had dinner."

"Nonsense. You probably barely touched your food," Margaret said. She set the tray on the nightstand with ceremony. "Besides, this is my famous healing soup. Excellent for... the heart."

"Thank you, Margaret," Freya said with forced politeness.

Margaret beamed like she'd won the lottery. She handed a bowl to each of them. "Now, I want to see you both finish every single drop."

Niklaus sniffed the soup with obvious suspicion. "What exactly did you put in this?"

"Just herbs from my garden," Margaret replied with practiced innocence.

Margaret planted herself at the edge of the bed. She watched them with laser focus. "Well? Drink up while it's hot."

Freya pushed her bowl away. "I can't drink anymore."

Niklaus looked at his mother's expectant expression that clearly said she wouldn't leave until they complied. Then he looked at Freya's stubborn refusal. "I'll drink both."

He lifted the bowl to his lips with a long-suffering sigh and took a substantial gulp. "Satisfied?"

Margaret studied them both carefully. "Now, I expect you two to stay in this room tonight and work things out like adults. I need to know you're making a real effort before I can rest easy."

"Mother," Niklaus began. His tone was pure warning.

Margaret suddenly pressed a hand to her chest. Her expression became dramatically pained. "Please, Niklaus. The doctor said I absolutely must avoid stress. Knowing you two are at each other's throats... it's terrible for my weak heart."

Freya shot Niklaus a look that clearly screamed, See what you're doing to her?

He clenched his jaw so hard it could have cracked teeth but nodded. "Fine. We'll talk."

"Wonderful!" Margaret's recovery was miraculously instantaneous. She headed for the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. "Remember, darlings, there's no problem between fated mates that can't be solved by a good night together."

She closed the door behind her with a knowing smile that could have lit up the room.

Freya immediately turned her back to Niklaus. She switched off the bedside lamp and squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to sleep. The distance between them was wide enough for two more people.

But after what felt like hours, Freya could sense something changing in Niklaus beside her. His breathing was becoming irregular, slightly faster than normal.

"Niklaus?" Freya asked. She noticed the shift in his energy. "Are you okay?"

She turned to look at him and gasped in shock. His eyes were glowing with an unnatural golden light.

Something was very, very wrong.