My Fake Rogue Mate Is The Alpha King

Kira POV:

Aiden led me to a quiet booth in a small café next to the registration hall. The scent of cold pine and something wild clung to him, unsettling my already frayed nerves.

"One million dollars," I said, the number feeling absurd on my tongue. I braced myself for his laughter. It was the bare minimum I needed for Grandpa's surgery and aftercare.

Aiden didn't even blink. He took a sip of his black coffee.

"Done."

I stared at him, my mind blank. I couldn't believe he'd agreed so easily. A new suspicion took root. "Who... who are you? You don't look like..."

He leaned back, a flicker of something that looked like genuine loss in his eyes. "My name is Aiden. Just Aiden. And as you saw, I'm a Rogue. Just got kicked out of my pack. Penniless and homeless."

My jaw dropped. "Kicked out? Then where did you get a million dollars?" My guard went up instantly.

Aiden gave a bitter smile. "It was the last of my family's money. A... severance package, you could call it. It was meant for my new life with... her." He didn't say Penelope's name, but the sting of rejection in his voice felt real.

My last shred of doubt dissolved, replaced by a pang of sympathy. He was just like me. A broken, discarded thing.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "I agree. But we need a contract. I'm not making the mistake of trusting a male's word again."

He nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Of course. I have conditions of my own."

He pulled a pen from his pocket and started writing on a clean, crisp napkin. His handwriting was sharp and decisive.

1. The term of the marriage is one year, or until you no longer need me.

2. During the marriage, we will have separate private lives. No physical obligations.

3. In public, we are mates. You will play your part.

I read the terms. They were exactly what I wanted. "I agree."

Then, he wrote the fourth and final term.

4. You will provide me with a place to stay. As you can see, I am now homeless.

I froze. Let a strange male Rogue live in my apartment? With my little brother? It was insane.

"No," I said immediately. "It's just me and my brother. It's not appropriate."

Aiden's gaze dropped to the table. "I can sleep on the couch," he said, his voice low. "I won't be a bother. Otherwise... I'll be on the street."

His words cornered me. I was the one who had approached him. He had met my price. How could I refuse this one "small" request?

And the image of this proud, handsome man sleeping on a park bench... it stirred an unwelcome flicker of pity in my chest.

I wrestled with it, my jaw tight. "Fine," I finally bit out. "But you follow my rules."

That ghost of a smile returned to his lips. "Of course, my Luna."

The title, both a mockery and a fact of our new arrangement, sent a hot flush to my cheeks. "When do I get the money?" I asked, changing the subject.

He slid a sleek, black card across the table. "The million is in there. The PIN is six zeros."

I picked it up. It felt heavy, scorching hot in my hand. This card was a chain, binding my fate to the mysterious man before me.

I looked at him, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. "I, Kira Hayes, will be your sponsor. In return, you will act as my mate."

Aiden just gave a slight, noncommittal smile, as if accepting my charity.

We signed the napkin agreement. Two copies. We each folded ours and put them away.

I stood, ready to go to the bank, then the hospital.

"I need to go collect my 'luggage,'" Aiden said, also standing. "Here's my number. Contact me when you've arranged my accommodations."

He handed me a slip of paper and walked out. His back was straight and proud, but for a moment, I saw the profound loneliness of a Rogue clinging to him.

I clutched the bank card and the phone number, feeling like I was in a bizarre dream.

I rushed to the nearest ATM, my hands shaking as I inserted the card and typed in the PIN.

When the balance appeared on the screen, a dizzying string of zeros, my breath caught in my throat.

It was real. I had just sold myself into a sham marriage for my grandfather's life.