The Alpha Commander's Defiant Wolfless Contract Mate

Gwenda Holland's POV:

My eyes snapped open as a wave of searing heat tore through my throat, and every bone in my body ached as if crushed under a sledgehammer.

I propped myself up on my elbows, squinting at the rough timber walls and a flickering oil lamp that gave off a harsh, smoky smell. I was in a shabby wooden bedroom, not the steel-walled military medical lab I remembered.

Unfamiliar memories flooded my mind, making my temples throb. I had been reborn into the body of Gwenda Holland, an overweight woman from the borderlands, mocked throughout the camp for being born without an Inner Wolf, incapable of shifting or using the Mind-Link.

I glanced down at my calloused palms, feeling a faint current of healing energy beneath my skin, while a spot beneath my left shoulder blade burned as though it had been branded. The air around me was thick with the sharp, dominating scent of cold cedar, the lingering scent of an Alpha who had just endured the full moon heat.

Turning my head, I spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with short black hair standing beside the bed, fastening the top button of his black Vanguard Regiment uniform. He was Devonta Wolf, the feared Alpha commander of the Vanguard camp, his amber eyes still tinged with red from the previous night.

My breath hitched, and I instinctively pulled the frayed linen blanket up to my chin to hide the faint red marks along my collarbone.

The wooden door flew open, and my stepfather, Arthur Holland, stomped in smelling of cheap tobacco. Right behind him was my half-brother, Acey Holland, his light regiment armor rattling as anger twisted his face.

"Commander, you slept with my unmated stepdaughter under my roof!" Arthur roared, pointing a thick finger at the messy bedsheets. "You owe the entire borderland camp an explanation!"

Acey lunged forward a step, his jaw clenched.

"Gwenda, what did you put in the commander's drink to trap him?"

I looked straight at Acey. My throat was raw, but my voice remained steady.

"Have you lost your mind? Go see a healer and stop shouting in my room."

Acey froze in his tracks, his mouth hanging slightly open as if he could not believe his timid, self-loathing sister would dare speak to him that way.

Devonta slowly turned around, and the force of his Alpha authority filled the cramped room, making both Arthur and Acey gasp for air. He gave a low cough, a faint flush creeping up the tan skin of his ears as his gaze settled on my expressionless face.

I could feel a sudden brush of mental pressure against my temples-he was trying to reach me through a Mind-Link, but, without an Inner Wolf, I had no way to answer. A flicker of confusion crossed his amber eyes before he strapped on his leather wrist guard.

"I was injured last night, and the full moon heat overwhelmed me," Devonta said, his deep voice leaving no room for argument. "The fault is mine alone."

Greed flashed in Arthur's eyes, and he immediately pressed a step closer.

"Since that is the case, the regiment must follow borderland law and bind you two in a blood contract immediately!"

Sweat beaded on Acey's forehead as he reached out to grab Devonta's sleeve.

"Commander, you're supposed to marry a pureblood noblewoman from the capital pack! How can you bind yourself to a wolfless village girl who can't even fight?"

I arched a brow, rubbed my aching temple then let out a cold, mocking laugh.

"I don't need anyone taking responsibility out of pity," I said, throwing off the blanket and standing up on heavy but steady legs. "If this bothers you so much, the door is right there."

Shock flickered in Devonta's wolf eyes, as though he were used to women clinging to his Alpha status and had never met such cold rejection. He strode over until his towering shadow swallowed me whole, the overwhelming scent of cold cedar filling my lungs.

"Under Vanguard Fortress law, an Alpha never abandons his mate," he said, looking down at me. "In three days, an armored regiment transport will come to fetch you for the mating ceremony."

I met his intense gaze without blinking.

"Suit yourself, Commander. Just don't expect an obedient wife."

Terrified that this golden opportunity might slip away, Arthur hurriedly pulled a prepared mating contract from his coat and slapped it onto the wooden table. Devonta didn't hesitate for a second; he unclipped a military fountain pen from his belt and signed his name across the bottom in sharp, bold strokes.

He slid a copy of the contract across the table toward me, his eyes lingering for a moment on my calm silver-gray irises. Acey slammed his fist into the doorframe, glaring at me with bitter disappointment.

Devonta adjusted his peaked military cap and turned toward the door, his heavy combat boots thudding steadily against the floorboards. The moment he stepped out, I silently circulated my special-ops medical breathing technique, and I went still. Deep in my abdomen, I sensed three faint pulses beating together. Three pureblood lives.

Gwenda Holland's POV:

Three days after Devonta signed the mating contract, I walked out of my bedroom and sat down before the rusted tin mirror in the side parlor, lazily running a wooden comb through my wavy light-blonde hair.

The parlor door creaked open, and my cousin, Brenda Holland, swayed in holding an ornate mahogany makeup box. Her cloyingly sweet perfume filled the room, failing to mask the vicious jealousy glinting in her eyes.

"The Moon Goddess must be blind if she let a wolfless piece of trash like you hit the jackpot with an Alpha Commander," Brenda sneered, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

I barely looked up, my fingers smoothing out a rough crease on my sleeve.

"If you have something to say, spit it out. If not, close the door on your way out."

Brenda's fake smile stiffened on her face before she stepped quickly behind my chair and opened the box. Inside was a compact of ivory face powder with a faint metallic sheen.

Beneath the floral fragrance, I caught a sharp metallic scent. My training as a special-ops medic told me exactly what it was. It was high-purity silver dust ground into the powder-for a werewolf, silver was the ultimate lethal weakness, capable of badly burning the skin on contact.

"You need to look presentable. We can't have you embarrassing the regiment," Brenda said, scooping up a thick layer of the poisoned powder on a puff and shoving it straight toward my cheek. "Let me put this on you."

Outside the open window, several village women craned their necks, giggling and whispering about how an ugly, bloated girl like me could never match a high-ranking Alpha officer.

Just as the puff was an inch from the tip of my nose, my left hand shot out like a striking viper and clamped around Brenda's wrist joint. I twisted her wrist hard enough to dislocate it. Brenda screamed and dropped the box.

I caught the box before it hit the floor and pressed the silver-laced powder into her face.

Acrid white smoke curled from her skin with a hissing sound as soon as the silver touched it, and Brenda collapsed to the floorboards, thrashing wildly as blistering red sores erupted across her cheeks.

"My face! It burns! You bitch, you poisoned me!" Brenda howled, clawing frantically at her festering skin.

I casually dusted the stray powder off my fingertips and looked down at her writhing form.

"You tried to burn my face with silver on my wedding day. Did you really think I was utterly clueless?"

The gossiping village women outside the window turned pale as sheets, stumbling backward several steps as if they were staring at a demon from hell.

The parlor doors were suddenly shoved wide open, and my birth mother, Carie Downs, strode in wearing a heavy bearskin cloak, flanked by two burly warriors from her maternal clan. Without sparing a single glance at Brenda screaming on the floor, Carie rushed straight to my side and grabbed my hands to check my skin.

"My dear, are you hurt? If they've laid a finger on you, I'll tear this place apart!" Carie said, her warm hands trembling slightly as she looked me over.

The warmth from my mother's hands melted some of the ice in my chest.

"Mom, I'm fine. She just got a taste of her own medicine."

Arthur came running at the noise, and when he saw his niece's bloody, blistered face, he pointed a shaking finger at me in outrage.

"Gwenda! How dare you be so vicious to your own cousin!"

Carie spun around and slammed her open palm down onto the solid oak table, splitting a jagged crack right down the middle of the thick wood.

"Arthur! Bark one more word at my daughter and see what happens!" Carie roared, her fierce Beta aura making Arthur choke on his breath. "She tried to use silver on a Vanguard commander's bride! The only reason I haven't snapped her neck is out of respect for the Moon Goddess!"

At a sharp wave of Carie's hand, the two clan warriors grabbed the howling Brenda by her ankles and dragged her out into the yard like a dead dog.

Outside the courtyard, the low, rumbling roar of a heavy armored regiment transport echoed down the dirt road, rattling the windowpanes. Carie reached into her bearskin coat, pulled out an family heirloom wrapped in red silk, and carefully hung the refined gold-and-silver pendant around my neck.

"This belonged to your grandfather," Carie whispered fiercely. "Keep it safe. And don't let anyone intimidate you."

As I walked out toward the yard, Acey stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, his eyes bloodshot as he awkwardly shoved a regiment bone charm carved with a wolf claw into my palm.

"The commander's family is full of snobs. They'll look down on you because you're wolfless," Acey muttered, wiping his face roughly with his sleeve. "When I get paid next month, I'll send you some money. Don't let them push you around."

I looked at the bone charm still warm from his hand, patted his armored shoulder once, and climbed up the steel steps into the armored transport as the convoy rolled out onto the dirt road.

Gwenda Holland's POV:

After a two-hour drive across the dusty borderlands, the heavy armored regiment transport rolled over gravel and rolled to a halt.

I pushed open the heavy steel door, stepped down onto the dirt, and looked up at the two-story Wolf family manor built from rough black stone. The tall wrought-iron gates were padlocked from the inside, with not a single host in sight, save for three guard dogs barking furiously behind the bars.

The regiment escort guard stepped forward and pounded his fist against the iron bars, shouting to announce the bride's arrival, but the manor remained dead silent. Up on the second-floor carved balcony, the velvet curtains twitched, revealing two women peeking down with twisted, malicious smirks.

I recognized them as Devonta's mother, Dolores Wolf, and his younger sister, Danita Wolf.

"Does that wolfless village girl really think she deserves to use our front gates?" Dolores's shrill voice drifted down on the wind. "Leave her outside on the dirt road for three hours. Maybe she'll learn her place."

Around the edge of the clearing, dozens of low-ranking Pack civilians had gathered to watch the wedding, pointing at my thick waist and whispering among themselves about how the Commander's family was humiliating the new bride.

My silver-gray eyes turned cold, and just as I shifted my weight to move, my mother exploded with rage beside me.

She lunged forward in two long strides, raised her right leg clad in a heavy combat boot, and channeled every ounce of her explosive Beta strength into a brutal kick right against the center lock of the wrought-iron gates.

The lock gave way under her kick. Both heavy iron gates tore free of their hinges and crashed onto the cobblestones.

Flying gravel and twisted iron shards pelted the bushes, sending the three guard dogs yelping in terror with their tails tucked tight

between their legs. Up on the balcony, Dolores and Danita let out piercing screams as the vibration shook a clay flowerpot off the railing, shattering it on the stones below.

Carie planted one hand on her hip and pointed her other finger straight at the second floor.

"Dolores! Get down here, now! If you dare lock my daughter out on her wedding day, I'll burn this stone shack to the ground!"

Dolores came scrambling down the spiral staircase clutching her skirts, her frizzy yellow hair a mess and the deep lines around the mole by her mouth twitching wildly.

"Carie! Have you lost your mind?" Dolores shrieked, her voice trembling despite her bluster. "This is the private residence of a Vanguard Regiment Alpha officer, and you just destroyed our property!"

Danita hid behind her mother's shoulder, glaring at me with venomous eyes while twisting the hem of her dress.

"An uncultured, fat, wolfless freak doesn't deserve to be Devonta's mate!"

I let out a cold laugh, stepped past my mother, and locked my icy gaze straight onto Danita's face.

"Keep insulting me, and you'll regret it."

A violent shudder ran through Danita's shoulders under my murderous stare, and she shrank completely behind her mother's back. Carie reached into her tactical vest, pulled out a red-stamped badge from the Regiment Provost Office, and shoved it an inch from Dolores's nose.

"Say one more word and I'll open a Mind-Link to High Command right now to report you for defying a military mating order!"

The blood drained instantly from Dolores's face at the sight of the Provost badge, her lips turning a sickly gray as she clamped her mouth shut. Low laughter rippled through the crowd of watching civilians outside the walls, clearly thrilled to see the arrogant mother-in-law put in her place.

Carie turned around and waved a broad arm toward the dozens of skinny borderland wolves gathered outside.

"Today is Gwenda's mating celebration! Everyone, come in and join us!"

Several gaunt young wolves hesitated near the broken gate, their hungry eyes darting toward the fenced grove behind the manor where high-grade energy pheasants were kept. For werewolves with fast metabolisms, high-energy meat was a prized luxury.

"What are you waiting for?" Carie shouted generously. "There are pheasants in the backyard. Get them ready for the feast!"

A deafening cheer went up from the crowd as the civilians swarmed into the backyard, hurrying to prepare the expensive birds. Dolores threw up her hands in despair, tears springing to her eyes as she watched her prized flock get plucked and skewered.

"My pheasants! I was saving those top-grade birds to trade for energy crystals for Danita!" Dolores wailed, only to choke back her sobs when Carie shot her a murderous glare.

Within minutes, a roaring bonfire blazed in the courtyard, filling the air with the rich, mouthwatering aroma of roasting pheasants. I stood calmly on the stone steps watching the chaos, then my mother took my hand and led me across the wrecked iron gates toward the main hall, while Danita stared greedily from the shadows at the red silk dowry pouch tied to my waist.