My Alpha Begged Me Back After Calling Me Unworthy

The message came through Marcus three days later.

Alpha Benson had arranged a meeting. The Blade would consider the contract, but only under specific conditions. Anonymity. Respect. And a face-to-face negotiation with the host Alpha.

I stood in front of the mirror in Leonidas's office, adjusting the black veil that covered my face. The fabric was sheer enough to see through but thick enough to obscure my features. The voice modulator sat cold against my throat, a small device that would distort my words into something unrecognizable.

"You don't have to do this," Leonidas said from behind me. His reflection appeared in the mirror, his hands settling on my shoulders.

"Yes, I do." I turned to face him. "He needs to feel what it's like to beg."

His eyes searched mine, gold flickering in their depths. Then he nodded. "I'll be in the next room. One word, and I end this."

I touched his cheek. "I know."

---

The office Alpha Benson provided was deliberately dim, a single lamp casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. I sat in the chair facing the door, my hands folded in my lap, the contract laid out before me.

When Kendrick walked in, I felt my wolf surge. Three years, and the sight of him still made my chest tight. But not with longing. With rage.

Angelina followed him, her designer heels clicking against the hardwood. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me, suspicion written across her perfect face.

"The Blade, I presume," Kendrick said, his voice carrying that practiced Alpha charm. He extended his hand.

I didn't take it.

"Sit," I said. The modulator turned my voice into something mechanical, emotionless.

Kendrick's smile faltered. He pulled out a chair, and Angelina perched beside him, her phone already in her hand.

"No recording," I said.

Angelina's fingers froze. "Excuse me?"

"No recording. No photos. No social media. These are the terms."

Kendrick put his hand over Angelina's phone, pushing it down to the table. "Of course. We respect your privacy."

I slid the contract across the desk. "Read it."

Kendrick picked up the papers, his eyes scanning the text. I watched his expression shift from confidence to confusion to something close to panic.

"This clause here," he said, pointing. "About providing a high-ranking female for waste management—"

"Non-negotiable," I said.

Angelina leaned over, reading. Her face went white. "You want me to clean offal?"

"The contract specifies the Alpha's Female," I said, each word precise. "During the preparation of spiritual beasts, someone must handle the waste. The toxins, the blood, the organs deemed unfit for consumption. It's sacred work. It requires someone of status."

"Sacred?" Angelina's voice pitched high. "It's garbage!"

"It's tradition." I leaned forward. "The Moon-Blessed Stag is not ordinary meat. Every part of the process must be honored. If you want The Blade's services, you follow The Blade's terms."

Kendrick set down the contract, his jaw tight. "This is ridiculous. We can hire someone—"

"Then hire someone else to butcher your stag." I started to rise.

"Wait." Kendrick's hand shot out, stopping just short of touching me. "Wait. We need you. Everyone knows what happened with our pack butchers. If we fail at this gala—"

He didn't finish. He didn't have to. I could see it in his eyes. Desperation. The same look he'd given me three years ago, right before he said I wasn't good enough.

Now I was the only one good enough.

"Then you agree to the terms," I said.

Angelina stood, her chair scraping back. "Kendrick, you can't seriously—"

"Sit down." His voice carried Alpha command, and Angelina flinched. "Sit. Down."

She sat, but her eyes burned with fury.

Kendrick picked up the pen. His hand shook slightly as he signed his name at the bottom of the contract. Then he slid it toward Angelina.

"Sign it," he said.

"You're choosing this over me?" Her voice cracked. "Over your mate?"

"I'm choosing our pack's survival." Kendrick's face was stone. "Sign it, Angelina."

She grabbed the pen, her movements sharp and angry. Her signature was a violent slash across the page.

I took the contract back, folding it carefully. "The preparation begins in three days. I'll send the equipment list. And Angelina?" I looked at her directly. "Wear something you don't mind ruining."

I stood and walked toward the door. Behind me, I heard Angelina's voice, low and venomous.

"I'm going to find out who you are," she said. "And when I do—"

"You'll do nothing," I said, not turning around. "Because by then, it won't matter."

I left them sitting in the dark, the contract signed, the trap set.

Leonidas was waiting in the hallway. He took one look at my face and pulled me close.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I just made him sign his own execution," I said.

His smile was sharp. "Good."

But as we walked toward the exit, my phone buzzed. A text from Marcus: *Paislee's at Riverside Park. Thought you should know Angelina just drove past.*

My blood went cold.

"We need to go," I said. "Now."