Chapter 10
856words
She took in the car's interior—upholstered in the softest snow wolf fur, with a driving core made from a fist-sized levitation crystal so rare there weren't three such vehicles in the entire capital. This car alone was worth more than all she'd just extracted from her family.
She'd thought he'd merely escaped the Forsaken Lands, but this…
"What's on your mind?" Alan smiled, as if reading her thoughts. "Calculating my net worth? Evaluating my value as a potential mate?"
Genevieve flushed with embarrassment, cleared her throat and changed the subject. "I just made a deal with the Dracotts."
"Three magic crystal mines for your freedom." Alan finished for her, approval warming his voice. "My little wildcat still has her claws, I see."
He already knew. Genevieve startled.
"My shadow guards have followed your movements since you left the mansion," Alan said casually, then shifted topics. "Remember in the Forsaken Lands? You fought three Hyena-men—all bigger and stronger—to protect newborn snow rabbits. You wouldn't back down even covered in wounds."
Genevieve turned away uncomfortably at the memory.
"Later, when you hid in that cave nursing your wounds, I brought you roasted meat. But you were so wary—a true wildcat—only snatching it when I stepped back, waiting until I left before eating." Alan's voice softened like moonlight. "Since then, I've wondered when my wildcat would finally eat in peace under the sun, without fearing the food might vanish."
His gaze deepened, locking onto hers.
"Genevieve, you've spent over a decade armoring yourself. You chase wealth, settle scores, thinking it brings security. But why can't you imagine accepting happiness when it's offered freely?"
He leaned forward, his question gentle but insistent:
"Why won't you consider becoming my mate?"
Genevieve's heart raced. She instinctively wanted to retreat, to claim incompatibility, to declare her distrust of everyone.
But Alan didn't give her the chance.
"When those academy fools attacked you with pheromones and nearly broke you, I intercepted and destroyed all recordings of the incident."
"When the Dracotts locked you away, my shadow guards sprinkled calming flower pollen outside your window each night."
"These past two years while you played 'healer' to the Blackwood Pack, my guards stood watch whenever Damian lost control. Had he truly harmed you, they would have torn him apart within seconds."
"I only regret that my legs… prevented me from protecting you personally."
Each revelation landed like a stone in still water, sending ripples through Genevieve's carefully guarded heart.
All those years when she thought herself alone, someone had been watching over her, protecting her from the shadows.
That brief light in the wasteland hadn't been extinguished by time. It had grown stronger, brighter—a star now capable of illuminating her entire sky.
Genevieve couldn't hold back anymore. Tears formed and spilled down her cheeks.
Alan reached out, gently wiping away her tears with his fingertips. His touch carried a slight coolness, yet sent a comforting shiver through her.
"Don't cry," he said softly. "My wildcat doesn't shed tears."
Genevieve sniffed, blinking back tears, and raised her bright, damp eyes to meet his. She knew she needed to match his honesty with her own.
"What happened with Damian wasn't what you might think," she began, her voice husky from crying. "It was just a job—a 'pheromone therapy agreement.' There was never any… intimate contact between us."
She saw understanding flash in Alan's eyes, but added firmly: "That agreement is now terminated. Completely."
Alan listened quietly, then casually stroked his numb left leg. "But I am… an Alpha with a disability. Does that truly not bother you?"
This was his first show of vulnerability before her.
Genevieve grabbed his hand resting on his knee and held it tightly. Looking directly into his eyes, she spoke with fierce sincerity:
"Alan, I could never despise your scars. I know they exist because of me."
She pressed the back of his hand against her cheek, savoring his warmth.
"It's not a defect. To me, it's the most precious medal you could ever wear."
The driver, sensing the moment, silently raised the privacy screen. A world belonging only to them formed in the quiet backseat.
Alan's breath caught. He gazed at Genevieve, his eyes burning with emotion. Without another word, he took her hand and turned her wrist upward, exposing the delicate skin where blue veins traced beneath the surface.
He lowered his head, parting his lips to reveal sharp Alpha canines.
Genevieve didn't resist. She closed her eyes and surrendered.
A moment later, a sharp sting pierced her wrist. Alan's canines broke her skin with exquisite gentleness, injecting powerful Alpha pheromones—scented of forests and starlight—directly into her gland.
It was a shallow temporary mark—a promise of belonging and protection.
When he raised his head, a small but unmistakable bite mark adorned her wrist. The mark declared to the world that this proud, beautiful wildcat had finally found her Alpha.
