Chapter 3

Chloe POV

The human receptionist approached my desk, looking uncomfortable.

"Chloe," she said, lowering her voice. "There are some people waiting for you in Conference Room B. They said it's a family emergency."

I thanked her and walked down the carpeted hallway.

I pushed the heavy glass door open and stepped inside.

Sitting at the long mahogany table was Jada, looking even worse than her photo.

She was painfully thin, and the scent of decay hung heavily around her.

Beside her sat a woman in an immaculate white suit, the very fabric of which seemed to crackle with an oppressive authority, announcing her status as the former Luna before she even spoke—Martha.

A Luna was the Alpha's mate, the mother of the Pack, and her authority was second only to the Alpha himself.

The moment the door clicked shut, Martha released her Luna aura.

It was a heavy, suffocating pressure that demanded respect and submission from any lower-ranking wolf.

I forced myself to stand tall, locking my knees so I wouldn't collapse under the weight of her power.

"Sit down, Omega," Martha ordered, her voice laced with superiority.

I remained standing by the door.

Jada immediately let out a weak, rattling cough.

Tears spilled down her pale cheeks as she looked up at me.

"Please don't be mad at my mother," Jada whispered, her voice incredibly fragile. "I just wanted to see my future sister-in-law with my own eyes."

"I am not your sister-in-law," I stated clearly.

Jada wiped her eyes, playing the innocent victim perfectly.

"I read the ancient Pack archives," Jada said softly. "It says that a White Wolf's bone marrow regenerates instantly. Donating won't hurt you at all."

I let out a harsh laugh.

The White Wolf bloodline was a legend because our marrow possessed the ultimate healing power.

But extracting it was a death sentence.

"The archives also say that transferring White Wolf marrow causes massive tissue rejection," I retorted. "It destroys the donor's immune system. A simple scratch could kill me after that surgery."

"The archives speak of the gift given freely," I continued, my voice hardening. "They do not speak of the gift ripped from a restrained donor by silver needles. White Wolf healing is an act of will—a conscious sacrifice. When it is taken by force, without consent, the body rebels. The rejection does not just destroy the donor. It poisons the gift itself."

Martha's face tightened.

Seeing that the emotional manipulation was failing, she reached into her designer bag.

She pulled out a sleek black credit card and slammed it onto the table.

"Name your price," Martha demanded. "Ten million? Twenty? We are buying your marrow. You will be set for life."

I stared at the black card, disgusted by their arrogance.

"Is this the extent of your scheme?" I mocked. "First, you bribe my stepmother for my genetic secrets. Then, you fabricate a charity to approach me. And failing that, you intended to stage a false Mating ceremony to chain me to your son."

Martha's eyes widened in genuine shock.

I had hit the nail directly on the head.

Jada gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

"No!" Jada lied smoothly. "Julian told me he found you through the National Werewolf Marrow Registry! We didn't know!"

"I have never registered with any guild in my entire life," I shot back, shattering her lie.

Suddenly, the conference room door swung open.

Alpha Julian rushed in, looking breathless and concerned.

He immediately released a wave of soothing Alpha pheromones, trying to calm the tension in the room.

The scent of rain-soaked pine washed over me, trying to force my body to relax.

"Mother, Jada, I told you not to pressure her," Julian said, playing the role of the protective, reasonable Alpha.

He turned to me, his eyes full of fake desperation.

"Chloe, please forgive them," Julian pleaded gently. "Jada is only twenty-three. She has her whole life ahead of her. We are just desperate."

I dug my fingers into the sharp edge of the mahogany conference table, the tiny pain of a splinter embedding in my skin a welcome anchor against his suffocating pheromones.

"My answer is no," I said firmly. "My White Wolf gene is not a pharmacy for the Silver Moon Pack."

Jada suddenly bent forward, coughing violently into a white handkerchief.

When she pulled it away, the cloth was stained with black blood.

The blackness was a sign of organ failure, the body's final surrender as volatile chemical suppressants lost their war against the disease.

"It's okay, Julian," Jada gasped, leaning heavily against the table. "I don't blame her. She has the right to be selfish."

I looked into Jada's eyes.

Behind the tears and the sickness, I saw pure, unadulterated arrogance.

She was absolutely certain that, eventually, I would break under the Alpha's pressure and give her what she wanted.

"Get out of my office," I commanded, pointing at the door.

I turned around and walked out of the conference room.

As I marched down the hallway, the human coworkers peeked over their cubicles, whispering.

Julian followed me out, raising his voice so everyone could hear.

"I will never give up on you, Chloe!" he shouted, sounding like a heartbroken lover. "I will wait forever for you to change your mind!"

I kept walking, my stomach turning at his sickening performance.

But as I reached my cubicle, I paused. Something Martha had said nagged at me. They had moved too fast, known too much. The fake charity, the planted envelope, this ambush in my workplace—it was all coordinated, all executed within days. Julian was not just wealthy and powerful. He had someone inside the Council, someone feeding him information and protecting him from scrutiny. If I was going to bring them down, I needed to find out who.