Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Blind Commander

Alannah POV:

Silver Peak's heir, Elton Rosa, broke our betrothal to marry Cinthia Nichols. Today I walked into the High Council-not to beg him back, but to demand a marriage blood-oath with Knox Delaney, Commander of Blackthorn, the man Elton despises most. They all think I have lost my mind. I have my own reasons.

The oak doors of the mediation chamber were heavy, but I shoved them open anyway. Elton was already there, sprawled on a velvet sofa with Cinthia tucked against his side. Her lily perfume hit me before I got close, sweet enough to turn my stomach.

"Sign the damn papers, Elton."

He lifted his chin, smoothing the lapels of his navy suit. "Still so impatient, Alannah. You lack the grace of a Luna. Then again, what can anyone expect from a wolfless merchant?"

"I didn't come here to trade insults with a parasite." I dropped my leather folder on the table and sat. "Where is the dissolution contract?"

Elder Augusta stepped out from the shadows by the arched windows, both hands resting on a silver cane. "Under tribal custom, since Silver Peak initiated the severance, House Morgan is entitled to formal settlement demands."

Elton laughed and tapped his sapphire signet ring against the table. "Demands? House Morgan exists because my pack sheltered your family's trading houses after your father died. She has nothing to demand."

"I'm not asking for scraps." I met his sneer with a cold stare. "I'm claiming my right to a replacement alliance. I want a marriage blood-oath with Supreme Commander Knox Delaney."

Cinthia burst into a shrill giggle. "Knox Delaney? The blind cripple whose inner wolf was shattered by silver blades? You must be truly desperate."

Elton shoved up from the sofa, his chair screeching back. His Alpha aura rolled off him in a hot, stifling wave. Against someone with no wolf, it was a cheap trick-it only made the room feel stuffy. "You'd marry a blind invalid just to spite me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I prefer Blackthorn's quiet dignity over the stench of your hypocrisy."

Augusta struck his cane against the floor. "Lady Alannah, Commander Delaney's condition is well known. Such an alliance requires his consent and high legislative clearance."

I pulled out a gold-embossed asset certificate and slid it to the base of his cane. "What if Morgan Trust pledges twenty percent of our commercial bank revenues over the next three years to federal border defense?"

Augusta leaned down. His cloudy eyes widened as he read the figure. His breath hitched, and his dry fingers trembled over the embossed seal.

Elton leaned over the table, trying to glimpse the numbers. "What is that? Let me see!"

Augusta covered the document with his palm. "You possess this level of liquid reserves? You can authorize such a transfer without board interference?"

"I'm the sole executor of House Morgan's trust," I said. "I don't need a board's permission. In exchange, I want a High Feudal Lady patent, signed by the Alpha King himself. Absolute immunity from pack asset seizure."

"That is impossible!" Cinthia shrieked. "She is a wolfless nobody! How can she be granted high lord sovereignty?"

I rose, palms flat on the table. "Because in a modern federation, gold buys the weapons your warriors carry. Wealth makes the rules. Bloodlines just beg for it."

Augusta stood frozen for nearly thirty seconds, staring at the ledger. The federal defense budget had been bleeding dry for years. Finally, the old wolf bowed his head. "I will present this directly to the Alpha King. The Council accepts your terms."

Elton's face went pale. He looked at Augusta as though the world had tilted.

I grabbed the dissolution contract, signed it in sharp strokes, and tossed it across the table. The thick paper sliced across Elton's knuckles, drawing a thin bead of blood.

"I will see you crawl back to Silver Peak before the next moon, Alannah!" he snarled.

I picked up my bag and walked out. "Mind your manners, heir Rosa. You are addressing the future Lady of the Blackthorn Pack."

Outside, Tessa draped a wool coat over my shoulders. "Did it go smoothly, ma'am?"

"Get in touch with Arthur Sterling. Begin auditing every outstanding loan issued to the Silver Peak Pack."

"Right away."

We walked to the curb. A black armored Maybach waited. I slid inside, the door sealing out the city noise. As the car pulled away, I looked out the tinted window. On the far street corner, half-hidden by morning fog, stood a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark overcoat. A strip of pitch-black silk covered his eyes, but his face was turned precisely toward my passing car.

Alannah POV:

The Maybach pulled into Morgan Trust's private garage. I took the express elevator to my corner office, sat behind the dark-wood desk, and pulled out the Silver Peak credit ledgers. Red deficit numbers ran down every page.

The doors banged open. Elton walked in with his mother, Constance Rosa-deep purple silk, graying hair pinned up, mouth tight with anxiety.

I didn't stand up. Just leaned back in the leather chair, ankles crossed under the desk. "This is private. You've got ten seconds to explain how you got past security."

Elton slammed both palms onto my desk. "Cut the act, Alannah. We're here to give you one last chance to fix your mistake."

I let out a dry laugh. "A chance? You broke our betrothal in front of the Council less than two hours ago. Now you're in my office offering chances?"

Constance stepped forward, lifting her chin. "Be sensible, girl. Cinthia comes from a decorated military family. Her brother holds rank in the federal garrison. She takes the primary title. But we're willing to let you stay at Silver Peak Manor as an unmarked submissive partner." She paused, smoothing her skirt. "Of course, House Morgan's monthly stipend to the estate continues as agreed. It's the only way a wolfless orphan like you keeps any standing in polite society."

They wanted it all-my title, my money, my silence.

I got up, walked around the desk, and stopped three feet from Elton. "You want me to live in your servant wing, endure your insults, and continue paying your bills?"

Elton stared at me, baffled. "Alannah, you have no inner wolf. Without the shelter of an Alpha's pack, you are nothing but prey in this city. Who else would ever take you?"

I picked up the ceramic mug of cold coffee from my desk and threw it in his face.

The dark liquid splattered across his nose, dripping down his chin and staining the crisp white collar of his custom shirt.

Elton froze, his gray-blue eyes widening in shock. He dragged his sleeve across his face, sputtering in disbelief.

Constance let out a horrified shriek, fumbling in her purse for a handkerchief. "Have you lost your mind? You insolent, lowborn peasant!"

I tossed the empty mug into the wastebasket, pulled a linen handkerchief from my pocket, and wiped my fingers. "Drop the aristocratic act, Constance. The Silver Peak Pack has been an empty shell for five years. You survive on my loans, and you know it."

I hit the intercom. "Security. Get these two out of here. Now."

Elton stepped forward, shaking with rage, his finger pointing inches from my eyes. "You dare disrespect my mother? I will see you ruined for this, Alannah! No pack in this federation will do business with Morgan Trust!"

I slapped his hand away with a sharp crack. "We will see who ruins whom."

Four heavy-set Beta security guards in black tactical uniforms entered and grabbed Elton and Constance by their upper arms.

"Take your hands off me!" Constance screeched, her heels kicking uselessly as her elaborate hairstyle unraveled. "I am the Dowager of Silver Peak!"

Elton struggled, but the guards easily suppressed him.

As they dragged them to the door, I said, loud enough for both to hear, "Have your accounts ready, Elton. Morgan Trust's formal notice of default hits your manor tomorrow morning."

The heavy double doors slammed shut, cutting off Constance's curses.

Tessa walked in a moment later with a fresh cup of hot chamomile tea and set it on my desk. "That was handled with remarkable restraint, ma'am."

I took a small sip, letting the warmth settle my nerves. "Restraint won't collect our debts. Did Arthur finish cross-referencing the accounts?"

The private landline buzzed. I lifted the receiver. "Go ahead, Arthur."

Arthur Sterling, our chief financial auditor, spoke in a hushed, urgent tone. "Alannah, we verified the secondary ledgers. Julian Rosa's gambling debts at the Riverview underground syndicate are worse than we projected."

I turned toward the window, looking down at the silver ribbon of the river below. "What is the total balance?"

"With compounding penalties, it sits at three million two hundred thousand federal credits," Arthur replied. "The debt has been sold twice. Julian signed personal promissory notes using the Silver Peak estate's secondary mineral rights as collateral."

I smiled, cold and sharp. "Gather the certified originals. Put them in a secure folder."

"Are you going to court?" Arthur asked.

"No," I said, tracing the cool glass with my nail. "I'm going to Silver Peak Manor tomorrow to collect."

I hung up the phone, walked back to my desk, and locked the primary debt records into the floor safe.

Just as the heavy steel dial clicked into place, my private cell phone vibrated on the blotter. The screen lit up with an encrypted message from an unregistered federal frequency.

"Your betrothal gifts have crossed the city perimeter. Prepare your vault."

Alannah POV:

Morning fog still hung over the pine groves when my Maybach pulled up the gravel drive. Two company sedans followed, three of Morgan Trust's senior legal partners inside.

A nervous Omega footman opened the doors, eyes glued to the floor. Elton was in the reception hall, sprawled on a leather sofa with Cinthia tucked against him. Constance came down the marble stairs, red wine already in hand.

"You again," she sneered. "I thought security made it clear you're unwelcome."

I didn't bother answering. I walked to the low mahogany coffee table, dropped my briefcase on it, and popped the latches.

Then I looked past Elton. "Good morning, Julian. Joining us?"

Julian Rosa flinched behind a marble pillar near the dining corridor, hands jammed in his pockets, shrinking back into the shadows.

Elton stepped between us, jaw tight. "Leave Julian out of this. What cheap trick are you pulling now?"

"Simple. Morgan Trust bought up some bad debt. We're here to collect."

The attorney laid four certified promissory notes in a neat row. "Julian Rosa owes three million two hundred thousand credits in gambling debts. The notes matured at midnight."

Constance's hand jerked. Wine sloshed over the rim and splashed across the Persian rug. "That is an outrageous lie! Julian would never-"

"His blood-seal is on page three." I pointed at the crimson thumbprint. "Federal banking law doesn't discharge blood-sealed notes."

Elton snatched the top document, eyes racing across the figures. His face went pale, knuckles white as he crumpled the edges.

He spun and backhanded Julian across the cheek.

The crack echoed through the hall. Julian collapsed against the pillar, sobbing. "Elton, I swear-they told me the table was fixed! They said I could win it back!"

Constance dropped her glass. Crystal shattered on the floor as she rushed to shield her younger son. "Don't touch him! Alannah set a trap!"

She lunged for the coffee table, nails clawing at the papers. My attorney caught her wrist without flinching. "Certified copies, Lady Rosa. Destroying them doesn't alter the lien on your estate."

Constance fell back onto the sofa, face buried in her hands. The Silver Peak facade cracked right in front of me.

Elton's neck veins throbbed. The humiliation in his eyes was intoxicating.

"Alannah," he said, voice dropping to a desperate hush. "We've known each other for years. Give us three months. We can work out installments."

I laughed, sharp and humorless. "Three months? Yesterday you tried to make me an unmarked concubine. Did you offer me three months then?"

I stepped closer, meeting his frantic gray-blue eyes. "You have three days. Seventy-two hours to wire three million two hundred thousand credits to Morgan Trust. If it's not in our clearing house by noon on day three, I'll have the courts seize Silver Peak Manor."

Cinthia shrank into the cushions, face pale as chalk.

"Three days is impossible!" Elton shouted. "You're trying to destroy this pack!"

"You destroyed it yourself." I turned my back. "Three days, Elton. Don't default."

My legal team followed me to the doors. At the threshold, I glanced back. "One more thing. Underground syndicates aren't as patient as I am. Don't make me send their collectors."

Outside, the morning sun cut through the fog.

In the Maybach, Tessa handed me a tablet of banking alerts. "Elton's already calling private lenders in the capital."

"Watch the Nichols accounts," I said, leaning back. "Cinthia's dowry is the only liquid asset they have left."

The car hummed through the financial district. Three days. Either Elton found three million credits, or I would take Silver Peak Manor.