The bullet had torn through my shoulder, leaving a jagged wound that refused to stop bleeding. I dragged myself back to the Omega quarters, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through my body. The damp, narrow hallway reeked of mildew and despair—fitting for those of us who lived here.

I locked the door behind me and finally allowed myself to collapse onto the thin mattress I shared with Rosemary when she was too weak to stay in the infirmary. My hands trembled as I peeled back the blood-soaked fabric of my uniform.

"Let me see," Luna whispered inside me. "Our healing will be faster than they know."

She was right. My White Wolf bloodline—the secret I'd guarded so carefully—gave me abilities no ordinary wolf possessed. Including accelerated healing.

I bit down on a rag to muffle my cries as I dug the bullet from my flesh. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't stop. If Dr. Winters discovered how quickly I healed, questions would follow. Questions I couldn't answer without revealing who I truly was.

"Stay strong," Luna encouraged as I packed the wound with herbs I'd stolen from the infirmary supply cabinet. "We must survive for Rosemary."

* * *

The infirmary was quiet when I slipped in the next morning. Dr. Winters was making her rounds, her back to me as she checked Rosemary's vitals. I crept closer, my heart sinking at the sight of my sister's pale face.

"Her breathing is more labored," Dr. Winters murmured, though she thought she was alone. "The medication isn't working anymore."

I stepped forward, forcing my voice to remain steady. "How bad is it?"

The doctor turned, her eyes widening slightly at my appearance. "Harper. You should be resting. That shoulder—"

"Will heal," I finished for her. "Tell me about Rosemary."

Dr. Winters hesitated, then sighed. "I've done everything I can with the resources we have. But her condition is deteriorating rapidly."

"Then get different resources," I pleaded.

"There's one option." She looked uncomfortable. "Moonshade Root. It grows only in the Rogue territories. A smuggler named Thorne sometimes brings it across the border."

Hope flared in my chest. "Where can I find this Thorne?"

"He's dangerous, Harper. And the Alpha would never allow—"

"I'll get the money," I interrupted. "Just tell me how much."

* * *

I found Kameron in his study, Melissa perched on his lap like a well-manicured ornament. They both looked up when I entered, his expression hardening instantly.

"What is it, Omega?" he growled. "I'm busy."

I kept my eyes lowered, the way he expected. "Dr. Winters says Rosemary needs Moonshade Root. It's her only chance."

"And?" Melissa's voice dripped with disdain.

"And I need money to pay the smuggler." I swallowed my pride. "Please, Alpha."

Kameron's fingers drummed against his desk. Melissa whispered something in his ear, her lips curving into a smile.

"I'll give you the money," he said finally. "But first, you'll earn it."

My heart leapt with desperate hope. "Anything, Alpha."

"Scrub the entire pack house. Every floor, every hallway, every stair." His eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. "On your hands and knees. Until I deem it clean enough."

Melissa's laugh tinkled like breaking glass. "And if you miss a spot..."

"Start over," Kameron finished.

I nodded, though Luna raged inside me. "I accept your terms."

"Good." He waved me away. "Begin immediately."

* * *

The water was scalding, the brush coarse against my skin. I started with the main entrance hall, scrubbing each marble tile until my knees bled and my hands blistered.

Hours blended into days. I worked without rest, without food except for the scraps Melissa ordered the kitchen to give me. My shoulders screamed in protest, my injured one weeping fresh blood into the soapy water.

Pack members walked past, some deliberately tracking mud across sections I'd just cleaned. Others kicked over my buckets, forcing me to start again. Through it all, Kameron watched from the balcony above, Melissa nestled against him.

"Look how hard the little Omega works," she cooed on the second day. "Like a common house pet."

I kept scrubbing, each stroke wearing away another piece of my soul. But for Rosemary, I would endure anything.

By the third day, my hands were raw masses of torn skin and exposed flesh. Blood mixed with soap and water in pink swirls across the floor. Still, I scrubbed.

"Kameron," Melissa pouted from her position on his lap, "my head hurts again."

He immediately stood, leaving his vantage point. "Let's get you some rest, my love."

Neither glanced back at me as they retreated to their private quarters.

I lowered my head to the cold marble, tears mixing with blood and soap. Three days and nights without sleep. Three days of torture for a sister who might not survive another week.

"Please," I whispered to no one. "Just let her live."

Luna howled inside me, a sound of pure anguish that echoed through our bond.

*Hold on*, I told her. *We're almost there.*

But as I collapsed across the wet floor, my vision blurring from exhaustion and pain, I wondered if "almost" would be enough.

My hands trembled as I pushed open the door to Kameron's office. Three days of scrubbing floors had left them raw and bleeding, despite my accelerated healing. Every movement sent shards of pain through my shoulder where the bullet wound had barely begun to close.

"Alpha," I whispered, keeping my eyes lowered as protocol demanded. "I've finished the task you set."

Kameron looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable. Melissa perched on the edge of his chair, her perfectly manicured nails tracing patterns on his shoulder.

"So you have," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I suppose you want your reward."

"It's not for me," I reminded him quietly. "It's for Rosemary. The smuggler is waiting."

He nodded slowly, reaching for his checkbook. Hope fluttered weakly in my chest as I watched him unc cap his pen.

"How much did you say?"

"Five thousand dollars," I replied, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. "Thorne won't negotiate."

Kameron began writing, his pen scratching against the paper. I held my breath, Rosemary's pale face floating before my eyes.

The office door burst open.

"Kameron!" Melissa's voice pitched high with distress. "It hurts so much!"

She clutched her finger dramatically, a tiny crimson dot marking her skin where she'd apparently cut herself on the edge of a gift box.

Kameron was on his feet instantly, the checkbook forgotten on his desk. "What happened, my love?"

"It's nothing," she sobbed, though her eyes gleamed with triumph as they met mine over his shoulder. "Just a stupid paper cut."

"A paper cut?" Kameron examined her finger with exaggerated concern. "Let me see."

I stood frozen, watching as he cradled her hand like she'd been mortally wounded.

"Alpha," I ventured cautiously, "the check..."

"Can't you see I'm busy?" he snapped, not even looking at me. "Wait outside."

"But the smuggler—"

"Now, Omega!" His Alpha tone hit me like a physical blow.

I backed out of the office, my heart sinking as I heard Melissa's theatrical sobs turn to giggles the moment the door closed behind me.

"He'll be so worried about me," she cooed to Kameron. "You always take such good care of me."

I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give way beneath me. Through the thick oak door, I could hear Kameron murmuring soothing words to Melissa.

"Let's get you to our private suite," he suggested, his voice warm with concern. "I'll bandage that finger properly."

"You're so good to me," she replied, her voice syrupy sweet.

Their footsteps moved away from the office. I waited, counting the minutes as they passed. One hour. Two. The smuggler would be leaving soon.

Luna paced restlessly inside me. *We should break down the door. Take the check. Run.*

*And then what?* I asked her silently. *Rosemary would still die.*

Three hours passed. I pressed my ear to the door, hearing nothing but silence now. Had they fallen asleep? Forgotten about me completely?

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The smuggler.

*Meeting time passed. No show, no deal. Try again next month.*

Next month. Rosemary wouldn't last that long.

I slid down the wall, my body trembling with exhaustion and despair. Through the bond, I felt Kameron's contentment as he held Melissa in their private suite, completely oblivious to the life hanging in the balance.

"Dr. Winters," I whispered into my phone when she called. "What's happening?"

"Harper," her voice was tight with urgency. "Rosemary's crashing. You need to come now."

I stumbled to my feet, racing through the corridors toward the infirmary. The fluorescent lights blurred as tears filled my eyes.

Rosemary lay on the narrow bed, her skin almost translucent in its paleness. Machines beeped frantically around her.

"Where's the medicine?" Dr. Winters asked, her face drawn with exhaustion.

"There is no medicine," I whispered, taking Rosemary's fragile hand in mine.

My sister's eyes fluttered open, finding mine with effort. "Harper," she breathed, her voice barely audible.

"I'm here," I choked out, squeezing her fingers gently.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, each word a struggle. "For being... such a burden."

"No," I protested fiercely. "Never."

Her lips curved in a faint smile. "You deserve... better than this."

The monitor beside her bed gave a single, long tone as the line flattened.

"Rosemary!" I cried, shaking her gently. "Rosemary, please!"

But the light had already left her eyes.

Dr. Winters placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. "She's gone, Harper."

I clutched Rosemary's body to my chest, rocking back and forth as sobs tore through me. Luna howled in anguish inside me, the sound echoing through our bond.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway. Kameron appeared in the doorway, his expression more annoyed than grieved.

"What's all this mind-linking about?" he demanded. "I was in the middle of something important."

He looked at Rosemary's still form with mild surprise, then at me with irritation.

"Well," he said finally, checking his watch. "This is unfortunate timing."