Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By His Uncle
Chapter 2
Arlene POV
I stood in front of the carved wooden doors of the Branch family's VIP suite. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my hands were steady. Two massive wolves in their shifted forms blocked the door.
“Alpha Theodore Branch is in a closed-door meeting with Mr. Blake Wiggins,” the guard snarled. “No interruptions.”
I looked him dead in the eye and recited a specific sub clause number – this is a highly classified emergency loophole in the Blanche family's inheritance laws—something I once overheard Adrian drunkenly boasting about.
The guard's jaw tightened. He shifted back, pressed two fingers to his earpiece, and whispered into his hidden microphone. Three seconds passed. A heavy mechanical click echoed from inside the wood. The door unlocked. The guards stepped aside.
I walked into the dimly lit room. The air was thick with the sharp scent of aged whiskey and expensive cigar smoke.
Blake Wiggins, Adrien's uncle by pack law, sat in a single leather armchair, his long legs crossed, casually flipping through a thick stack of territory merger documents. Theodore Branch sat opposite him, his face purple with rage – he already knew about his grandson's disgraceful exit.
Blake looked up. His deep, steel grey eyes locked onto me through the dim lamplight. His gaze was an abyss, giving absolutely nothing away.
Theodore gripped his ceremonial cane. “Are you here to cancel the ceremony, Arlene? I am deeply sorry for what Adrien did.”
I straightened my spine and looked at the two most powerful men in the werewolf world. “The ceremony proceeds as planned,” I said clearly. “But the groom's name changes.”
Theodore gasped, his knuckles turning white around his cane. “Are you insane? Do you want to drag a random groomsman to the altar?”
I shifted my gaze directly to the silent man in the armchair. “I am mating Blake Wiggins.”
The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Theodore sucked in a sharp breath – the kind of silence that only lands when the unthinkable becomes real. Blake's fingers stopped turning the page. He slowly closed the folder and leaned forward. “Do you have any idea what you are saying right now?”
“Every word of it,” I said. “Adrien walked out on me at the altar. His uncle can walk me down it instead.”
The bluntness hung in the air like a detonation. Theodore made a strangled sound. Blake's expression didn't shift by a single degree.
I took a step closer. “The mutual benefit agreement we briefly discussed at the gala last year. You need a mate to pacify the Council and handle the pack's pressure regarding your succession. I need a fortress to survive the fallout of today. Your name is the only one strong enough to shield me, and I am the only woman desperate enough to sign away my freedom without asking questions. It's a win win.”
A dark, imperceptible ripple crossed Blake's eyes. He stood up, his massive frame instantly swallowing the light in the room, radiating pure dominance. He walked until he was inches from my face, looking down, his voice a low rumble. “If you sign this blood contract, Arlene, there is no backing out. Ever.”
I didn't flinch. I tilted my chin up. “I have nothing left to lose. I am not afraid of the dark.”
Theodore suddenly stood up, his cane trembling. “Do it, Blake! This saves the family face. And it completely cuts that ungrateful bastard Adrien out of the succession! If you agree, I will have the elders alter the documents and the ceremonial screens immediately.”
Blake stared into my unwavering eyes. The silence stretched for ten agonising seconds. Finally, he gave a single, slow nod. He turned to his executive assistant standing by the wall. “Initiate Plan B. You have five minutes to replace all physical and magical materials.”
A sudden commotion erupted outside the door.
Kendall shoved past the guards, stumbling into the room. She saw me standing dangerously close to Blake.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “Are you trying to seduce your elder? You are disgusting!”
I didn't say a word. I closed the distance between us, raised my hand, and delivered a brutal backhand across her face.
Crack!
The sharp crack echoed off the walls. She crashed to the floor, clutching her stinging cheek, screaming in shock.
Blake didn't blink. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and handed it to me.
“Don't dirty your hands,” he said softly.
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