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Mask and moonrise - Chapter 2



Chapter 2




“I have no choice, Safia. Our land is at risk. The enemies are waiting for an opportunity to chase our land. Our company is at risk. The only solution I could find to all these problems is your wedding with Alpha Sion. He promised to give our land protection and help our company float. From today forward Silver pack and Moon light pack are friends.

Safia is born a human by the boon of the moon Goddess to a human mom and a werewolf dad. Thus though her father is an Alpha of a Moon light pack, she is a human.”

“We can begin,” a lawyer named Brad Pearson announced, his voice slicing through the heavy silence. He slid a contract across the polished mahogany table toward Safia. “This is your mating contract. Please read and sign it.”

Safia's hands trembled as she picked up the document. Her eyes scanned the foreign words, her mind struggling to make sense of the legal jargon. A marriage contract for a human and a werewolf. The whole thing was insane.

“Why do you want to mate me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You could have simply taken our land.”

Sion finally spoke, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Because killing someone is a single moment of suffering for the person you hate. But if you mate them, every day is a living hell.”

The words hit her like a physical blow.

“I wish I could turn you into a piece of shit.”

The storm in her stance was unparalleled. In contrast to her physical features, there was not an iota of response in him. She looked at the predatory smirk on his face and the cold indifference in his eyes.

A sudden, sharp sting on her cheek made her flinch. How did she get hit by him? Sion hadn't moved, but the air around him had grown thick with a barely contained rage. His cool blue eyes now burned with an almost feral hatred.

Safia rubbed her cheek with her hand staring daggers at him. She had no clue why he hated her so much, but it was clear that his reason was deeply personal, and he had no intention of telling her.

“The contract states that Safia Black Smith will be the lawfully mated Luna of Alpha Sion Canes for the next two years. After the expiry of the term, both individuals have the choice to continue the mating or opt out. But as long as the bond is active, Safia can't be with any other male,” the lawyer read aloud, oblivious to the silent terror unfolding at the table.

Safia's heart pounded against her ribs. She was a human, yet this man, this Alpha, was forcing her into a mating contract. A contract that seemed to benefit only him.

But as she looked at him, she knew there was no choice. Her pack, her land, her family's legacy—it all rested on this one signature.

With trembling hands, she picked up the pen and signed her name, the ink a dark stain on the page, sealing her fate.

The angry swipe of the hairbrush did little to tame Safia’s unruly curls, a wild crown of mahogany that refused to be controlled. She glared at her reflection, at the angry red marks blossoming on her cheek—the unmistakable imprint of his fingers.

Why did he hate her so much?

The question burned in her mind, a fire of resentment that no amount of concealer could extinguish.

It was no use. Her father’s company Best Wines, was hemorrhaging money. The files she was looking at were a dismal sea of red ink, a testament to her father's failing health and years of neglect.

But the pain of her family's impending ruin was nothing compared to the fury she felt for the man who now owned her.

“You took my life and held it for ransom, Dad,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “Who gave you the right to sell me to a monster?”

She asked him no sooner she reached her company’s head office.

Her father Alpha Soren took her hand, his expression a mix of guilt and desperation.

“We were out of options, honey. The bank was going to seize everything. Then, out of nowhere, Silver Pack made an offer. They would save the company—in exchange for your hand in marriage.”

“He's a beast, Dad! He's heartless, and he clearly has some ancient grudge against me!” Safia spat, pulling her hand away. “I hate him.”

“Alpha Sion saw you at a charity ball, Safia. He was smitten,” Soren insisted, a desperate hope in his eyes. “An Alpha like him doesn't just ask for a marriage and that too a human to mate. Girls just fly around him like bees to warm his head. You are destined to be his. That's why he must be truly caring for you.”

But Safia knew better. He wasn't a suitor; he was a predator.

The crowd of reporters gasped as the sleek black Rolls-Royce Boat Tail pulled up to the Best Wines head office.

Out stepped Alpha Sion, a figure of controlled power and predatory grace. He wasn't just a man; he was a force of nature. His movements were too fluid, his gaze too sharp, a glint of something feral in his striking golden eyes.

“Sir, we have information that you've just acquired Best Wines,” a reporter shouted. “Is this part of your strategy of taking sinking companies under your wing?”

“Sion Canes is only a shareholder,” Safia interjected, her voice tight with rage. “We are not a sinking company.”

Sion simply smiled, a lazy, dangerous curl of his lip.

“My wife is right. I don't acquire companies; I study their potential. And charity can be... pleasurable. Why wouldn't a husband help his wife’s business?”

The whispered gossip from her assistant, Tyla, was a cruel confirmation:

“That man knows how to turn everything to his advantage.”

Sion pulled Safia close, his touch a possessive brand.

“Don't make that face,” he whispered, his voice so low that only she could hear. “Cooperate, or you'll regret it.”





Chapter 3


Inside his office, he tossed a stack of financial files onto the mahogany desk.

“These numbers are pitiful. You have no idea what you're doing,” he accused Safia.

“You knew what you were getting into when you bought this company!” she shot back. “Did you not study the accounts?”

A smug, knowing smile spread across his face. “I don't study profit and loss accounts when it comes to my family, my love. I’ve been trying to win you for years.”

Soren beamed, oblivious to the menacing undertones. “See, honey? He does care!”

“So, my dear wifey,” Sion said, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “From tomorrow, you'll be working for me. Closely.”

He underlined the last word, hinting a warning if it was otherwise.

Safia's heart sank. “But what about my company? Dad just had a heart attack. I can't just leave him alone here with all this work to be your all-time assistant.”

There was an implicit sarcasm in her tone.

Soren rushed to fill the silence. “Just for a few months, honey. I’ll handle things here. Sion knows what's best.”

Sion winked, his predatory smile back in place. “See, how easy it is! The deal is done.”



Later that night, the moon was full and blinding, a silver orb hanging high in the sky. Generally, an atmosphere like this turns on a werewolf. She had read it in stories.

Safia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rhythmic, unnatural sound of his heavy breathing from the next room. She was frightened—frightened was an understatement.

Seconds hardly passed.

A long, mournful howl echoed in the distance. She pulled her blanket tighter, her skin prickling with fear. Her knowledge, though raw, was right.

A sudden, deep chill crept up her spine.

Then another sound—a sharp, splintering crack from the master bedroom.

He was horny, but Safia was not ready to culminate her marriage, let alone with a wolf.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat as she listened to the floorboards groan and the unmistakable sound of a large, heavy body dragging something across the room.

Her terror spiked as a shadow fell across the crack beneath her door.

A low growl vibrated through the floor.

The scent of pine needles and wet earth filled the air, and she knew with a chilling certainty that the beast was no longer in the next room.

He was right outside her door.

Safia wanted to vanish from the place. She wished the earth would swallow her rather than being in his bed.

Somehow, the night passed.



The next day…

“You did what?”

Bin’s words sliced through the low murmur of conversation and clinking silverware, his voice a low growl that carried the familiar scent of old-growth forest and winter frost.

Bin was the diaper-days mate of Sion. The two school friends sat across from each other in one of Cane’s owned restaurants.

The subtle shift of Sion’s shoulders was the only indication that he had heard Bin's incredulous tone.

Sion merely smiled, his expression not reaching his wolf-like eyes. He speared a fish finger with his fork, his movements precise and unhurried, even in the face of his friend’s barely contained fury.

“You heard it right. I bought the shares of Best Wines and married Safia Blacksmith.”

Bin slammed his fist on the table. It made a surprisingly quiet thud.

“Have you lost your damn mind? I was glad that bitch’s company was sinking! I thought you were wise, Sion—a true Alpha who would never provide support to his enemy. Did you forget what she and her dad did to you? Why would you marry that evil woman after everything she did to you in the past?”

A flicker of something dark and ancient finally broke through Sion’s calm façade.

“Let's get straight to the point,” his voice dropped to a low, dangerous register that made the hairs on Bin’s arms stand up. “I married her for revenge. My pain runs deeper than any human can imagine. She's clever; she would have found a way to save her company. I couldn't let that happen.”

A cold, ruthless fire lit in Sion's eyes, a fury that was absolute.

“You've decided to keep your enemy under your own roof,” Bin cautioned, his own voice softening. “Do you think this is a smart move?”

“There's no thrill in a game with no challenges, my friend. I want to break her. To turn her into a helpless woman with no confidence. I want her to be dirt under my shoes and beg me to save her company. Only then will I get the satisfaction of my revenge.”

Sion’s words were soft, but the determination to see Safia around was as unwavering as a full moon in a clear night sky.



Twenty minutes later, the scent of alcohol and raw wolf fury preceded Sion as he burst into the bedroom.

“What are you doing here? Get out!”

He ripped the covers from her, the force of the action sending a jolt of air that woke Safia with a gasp.

“Is this not… our bedroom?” she asked, her voice a soft, fearful whisper.

“Our bedroom?” He sneered. “I'd rather touch a viper than your shadow. Sharing a room with you is out of the question.”

“Is this the same man who promised to help his wife's business before the media this morning?” Safia asked, confusion warring with her fear.

“That was a show,” he scoffed, taking a staggering step toward her. “A performance to keep my revenge intact. I'm not a small-time entrepreneur born yesterday, making sick excuses in court to save my face. How many men did you sleep with to get more time in court—hearing after hearing? You've been pulling this drama for years, haven't you? How much more time do you want?”

“Enough!” Safia shot back, her fear giving way to a flicker of defiance. “You have no right to speak about something you don't know. You have no right to determine my character.”

Sion took another step closer, and Safia stumbled back, the scent of his rage thick in the air.

“I have every right,” he sneered. “You are my Luna, and you are here as my slave.”

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