The Wolfless Contract Luna (Grace and Ethan) novel Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Alpha Ethan’s First**

**Ethan POV**

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I observe the woman gliding toward me across the expansive ballroom, her hips swaying rhythmically, a practiced smile adorning her lips. She possesses undeniable beauty—dark, lustrous hair cascading down her back, curves accentuated in all the right places, and a dress that leaves little to the imagination.

Yet, in this moment, I feel absolutely nothing.

No magnetic pull drawing me in. No flicker of interest igniting within me. No scent wafting through the air to signal anything significant.

It’s akin to gazing at a painting—visually captivating, yet utterly devoid of depth or emotion.

“Alpha Ethan.” She halts before me, her head dipping in a gesture that leans more toward flirtation than genuine respect. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”

I make no effort to warm my tone. “You’ve caught me.”

Her laughter rings out, high-pitched and artificial, echoing against the marble walls. “I’m Alice, from the White Rock Pack. My father speaks very highly of you.”

“Alpha Henry is a good man.” I maintain my tone—neutral, polite, and nothing beyond that.

“He’d love for our packs to strengthen ties.” Alice steps closer, her hand landing on my arm, a deliberate move that suggests intimacy. “Perhaps we could discuss it over a dance?”

Just then, Niel appears at my shoulder, and I’ve never been more grateful for my Beta’s impeccable timing.

“Alpha.” He nods toward Alice, his expression a mix of respect and amusement. “Apologies for the interruption.”

I gently but firmly pull my arm free from her grasp. “I appreciate the offer, Alice, but I’m afraid I have other commitments tonight. Please extend my regards to your father.”

Her smile tightens, the corners of her mouth barely lifting. “Of course. Perhaps another time.”

She glides away, and I fight the urge to scrub my hand over my face in frustration.

“How many is that tonight?” Niel asks, his gaze following her retreating figure.

“Lost count after the first dozen.” My eyes scan the room, cataloging exits and potential escape routes. “This was a mistake.”

“You’re the most powerful unmated Alpha here.” Niel shrugs nonchalantly. “Of course, they’re circling like vultures.”

“They’re wasting their time.”

Because what they don’t realize—what no one knows except for Niel and my grandfather—is that I can’t sense any of them. Not their scents, not the subtle pheromones that should guide me toward compatibility, pack allegiances, or potential mates.

Nothing.

I’ve attended countless gatherings like this, endured endless introductions, allowed women to flirt with me, touch me, and throw themselves at my feet. Yet every single one of them feels as though they could be made of stone for all I can perceive.

‘Maybe there’s something wrong with me.’

‘Maybe I’ll never—’

“Well, well.” Niel’s voice drops, laced with amusement. “Looks like Darkrock’s Alpha has arrived.”

I follow his gaze to the entrance.

Damien stands framed in the doorway, exuding an aura of power in a tailored suit. A woman clings to his arm—a pink dress, dark hair, beautiful in an entirely calculated manner.

“His Luna?” I ask, though I already know the answer from Niel’s expression.

“Nope.” Niel leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s Lilith Light. His brother’s widow.”

My jaw tightens at the revelation. “He brought his mistress.”

“To a formal pack assembly.” Niel shakes his head in disbelief. “Ballsy. Or stupid.”

“Both.”

I’ve never been fond of my nephew. Oh, we maintain a cordial facade in public—family politics demand it. But I’ve witnessed things over the years that simply don’t add up. Convenient deaths, suspicious accidents—a disturbing pattern of cruelty disguised as strength.

“What?” Niel blinks in confusion.

Then the crowd shifts, and I finally see her.

Blonde hair shimmering like moonlight. Green eyes wide with desperation. A silver dress that hugs her curves, making my mouth go dry. She’s arguing with the doorman, glancing over her shoulder as though she’s being pursued.

And before I can even think, before I can process what the hell is happening, she’s moving.

Straight toward me.

Her hand slips through my arm, and the contact sends electricity racing up my spine. The scent intensifies—so strong it makes me dizzy, overwhelming my senses.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, darling.” Her voice is breathless, honeyed, yet laced with genuine fear. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

She’s pretending. Playing a role. Using me as a shield.

I should call her out. Demand to know who she is, what she’s running from.

But Ellen is screaming so loudly in my mind that I can barely think straight.

The woman’s eyes lock onto mine—forest green and filled with urgency—and something within my chest cracks wide open, a fissure of longing and recognition.

She starts to pull away. “I didn’t mean to—”

Before I can stop myself, my hand clamps over hers, a possessive instinct taking over.

The wolf inside me roars in approval, in possession, in recognition.

‘Move. Now. Before she runs.’

I’m turning, pulling her with me, past the doorman’s sputtered protests, through the massive doors, into the golden chaos of the assembly hall.

Ellen won’t shut up. Can’t shut up.

‘Mate! Mate! That’s her! That’s our mate!’