Rejected By My Ex, Claimed By The Alpha King

BRAXTON SINCLAIR POV:

Darkness. An endless, suffocating darkness. For a year, this has been my entire world. My body is a stone prison, caging a wide-awake mind and a furious inner wolf.

I can hear everything, feel everything, but I can't move a muscle. The curse from that Rogue Alpha locked me in my own body. My wolf paces restlessly in my mind, a constant roar of frustration. The powerlessness is enough to drive any Alpha insane.

I am the Alpha King of the Argent Pack, and I am trapped.

Today, my prison is getting a new inmate. My father, Winston, clinging to an old legend that a fated mate's touch might break a curse, has arranged this marriage.

I hear footsteps approaching my chambers. My butler Sterling's respectful voice cuts through the silence. "Miss Hicks, this way, please."

A strange, cool female voice responds. "Call me Kaia Dawson."

Not Janine Hicks? A flicker of confusion passes through my consciousness.

The lawyer, Mr. Hayes, begins his dry recitation. "This is the Pack Alliance Agreement, which makes Hicks Industries a subsidiary of the Argent Pack. And this is the prenuptial agreement, outlining your rights and duties as the Alpha's mate."

After much debate and discussion, I hear the rustle of paper, followed by the woman—Kaia's—calm questions. Each one is sharp, aimed directly at clauses concerning finances and personal freedom.

"The agreement states that if the Alpha does not awaken after one year, the marriage can be peacefully dissolved, and I will receive a compensation payment. What is the amount?" she asks.

"Yes, as per the agreement, it is five million dollars," Hayes replies.

I hear a soft, almost inaudible scoff. Then she says, "That's not enough."

My inner wolf lets out a low, displeased growl. A gold digger. Father brought me a gold digger!

Mr. Hayes sounds surprised. "Miss Dawson, that is a very generous..."

"I'm not negotiating with you," she cuts him off, her voice laced with irony. "I'm stating a fact. My 'services' are worth far more."

I hear the crisp scratch of a pen on paper. She signs her name without a hint of hesitation. She is now my legal mate. A woman who sold herself for money. My first impression of her is rock bottom.

After the lawyer and butler leave, the room falls silent. It's just her and me.

I can feel her gaze on me. Her footsteps are light as she slowly approaches my bed.

A faint, clean scent reaches me—a mix of citrus and herbs. It's unusual. It soothes the frantic pacing of my wolf, just a fraction. This is the first time anything has.

She stands there for a long moment, then speaks, as if to herself. "Alpha King Braxton Sinclair... I never thought the legendary Alpha would be lying here like a pretty doll."

Doll? Did she just call me a doll? My wolf roars in my mind, insulted.

"Still, it's for the best," she continues. "At least you can't move or talk. Saves a lot of trouble. I'll just treat this as a well-paying caregiver job."

The brutal honesty is... unexpected. She thinks I'm completely gone, so she's not hiding her true thoughts. A greedy, pragmatic, and even slightly cruel woman.

It's far more interesting than the tearful, fawning women my father usually deals with, even if my wolf is bristling at her disrespect.

I hear her moving her luggage. The sounds are minimal; she didn't bring much.

Sterling knocks and enters, asking if she needs assistance. She politely declines and then proceeds to ask a series of highly professional questions about my daily care routine, her tone shifting to that of a doctor.

After Sterling leaves, she is officially moved in. My prison now has a conscious warden.

I listen to her moving around the room, the soft sounds of her unpacking echoing in my mind. She seems to settle in quickly, with no signs of anxiety or discomfort.

This woman is more than just a gold digger, my wolf murmurs, a note of grudging curiosity in his tone. There's something else about her.

I don't know where this sham of a marriage will lead. But my gut tells me this woman, Kaia Dawson, is about to stir the stagnant waters of my cursed existence.

And I will be the sole, silent witness to it all.