Chloe POV
I locked myself inside the handicap stall of the office restroom.
My breathing was ragged, and my skin felt like it was on fire.
Resisting an Alpha's Command as an Omega was like trying to stop a moving freight train with bare hands.
My bones ached with a dull, throbbing pressure.
It was the pre-Shift stress reaction.
In our world, a werewolf's first Shift happens at eighteen, a brutal process where human bones break and reform into a wolf.
I was twenty-four, and because of my rare White Wolf bloodline, my wolf had remained dormant, making my body highly unstable under stress.
My phone started vibrating in my pocket.
Lilian's name flashed on the screen again.
I answered it, leaning my burning forehead against the cool tile wall.
"How did you know about the blood match?" Lilian's voice was sharp, stripped of all her motherly warmth.
I took a deep breath, forcing my racing heart to slow down.
"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" I asked, keeping my tone perfectly calm.
"It is your duty to the Pack family!" Lilian shouted, her voice echoing through the speaker. "Alpha Julian is offering us a place of honor!"
"He offered you money," I corrected her coldly. "You sold my medical reports to the Silver Moon Pack. You sold my hidden White Wolf gene for a payout."
There was a dead silence on the other end of the line.
Then, Lilian's tone shifted dramatically.
Her voice began to tremble, adopting the weak, pitiful pitch of a helpless Omega.
"Chloe, please," she sobbed. "I just sent you a photo. Look at it."
My phone chimed with a message notification.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and opened the text.
It was a picture of Jada, Julian's younger sister, lying in a sterile Pack hospital bed.
Her skin was paper-white, and dark, unnatural bruises covered her arms.
"She is dying, Chloe," Lilian cried. "Just go to the hospital and give them a little blood. It won't hurt you."
Anger flared in my chest, hot and violent.
"Last time you said this too," I snapped, the memories of the surgical table flashing in my mind. "And it killed me."
My thumb hovered over the red decline icon, the screen's light illuminating its trembling tip. After a two-second pause, I pressed down hard, severing the nauseating sound of her manufactured sobs.
I walked over to the sinks and splashed freezing water on my face.
When I looked up at the mirror, my reflection made me gasp.
For a fraction of a second, my human brown eyes flashed a brilliant, glowing gold.
The mark of the White Wolf.
In my past life, I had never seen my eyes glow. My wolf had remained buried so deep I thought she was a myth. But now, fueled by rage and the unshakeable will to survive, she was clawing her way to the surface. And she was furious.
By three in the afternoon, I was back at my desk, typing up a data report.
Quinn rolled her chair over to my cubicle, looking annoyed.
"Hey," she whispered. "There is a woman downstairs causing a huge scene. She is crying and telling the security guards she is your mother."
I stopped typing.
"My mother died nineteen years ago," I said flatly.
Quinn's eyebrows shot up, realizing the woman was an imposter.
I stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street.
Down on the pavement, Lilian was putting on a masterclass performance.
She wore no makeup, her clothes looked slightly worn, and she was wiping away continuous tears.
She was releasing weak, sorrowful Omega pheromones into the air.
Humans could not smell the pheromones, but the emotional frequency made them naturally sympathetic to her.
A small crowd of human office workers had already gathered around her, looking up at our building with judging eyes.
"Stay here and keep an eye on her," I told Quinn.
I grabbed my coat and made for the freight elevator at the rear of the floor. The moment its groaning doors opened onto the basement loading dock, I slipped out behind a departing delivery truck. Keeping my collar pulled high to obscure my face, I melted into the midday foot traffic and ducked into a convenience store across the street.
I hid behind a display of potato chips, watching Lilian through the glass window.
After about twenty minutes, the crowd of humans dispersed.
Lilian immediately stopped crying.
She pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and a greedy, satisfied smile spread across her face.
Ten minutes later, the familiar black SUV pulled up to the curb.
Alpha Julian stepped out, his face an emotionless mask.
Lilian hurried over to him, her posture submissive but her eyes shining with greed.
Julian reached into his designer jacket and pulled out a thick brown envelope.
He handed it to Lilian.
The envelope was partially unsealed, and I could clearly see the stacks of human cash and the faint, glowing edges of high-grade moon crystals.
Moon crystals were the currency of the werewolf elite, used to enhance strength and status.
I pulled out my phone and recorded the entire transaction, zooming in on their faces and the money.
Lilian shoved the envelope into her purse, bowing her head in thanks.
Julian got back into his car and drove away.
I waited until Lilian walked down the street before I returned to the office.
When I sat back down at my desk, my blood ran cold.
I reached into my tote bag for my notebook, and my fingers brushed against a thick, unfamiliar paper. A brown envelope had been slipped inside my bag while I was gone.
It was identical to the one Julian had just given Lilian.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a detailed medical report of Jada's failing blood levels.
Attached to the report was a small, handwritten note.
The paper radiated the heavy, suffocating scent of an angry Alpha.
If you do not come, her death is on your head.
I stared at the note, and for the first time since my rebirth, a cold, genuine fear prickled down my spine. They had gotten close enough to slip this into my bag. Close enough to touch my things while I thought I was the one watching them. Julian was not just a manipulator—he was a hunter. And he had just sent me a message: I can reach you anywhere.
