Annis POV:
The villa was warm. It smelled of lavender and expensive polish, a stark contrast to the rot of the Runt Quarters. But under the pleasant scents, there was something foul.
I floated in the corner of the master bedroom. Elroy was pacing.
On the bed lay Ivonne.
She was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way. But to me, she looked like a corpse painted to look alive. I drifted closer, sniffing the air. The scent was faint, masked by layers of perfume, but I knew it. Black magic. It smelled like sulfur and old blood. It was a scent blocker, used to hide one's true nature.
"Is... is the girl really gone?" Ivonne asked. Her voice was weak, feigned. She rubbed her swollen belly.
"Dead," Elroy said, loosening his tie. "Annis didn't show up. She abandoned the child's body. She truly has no heart."
"Oh, Elroy," Ivonne cooed, reaching out a hand. "She never deserved you. Those credit card alerts from Paris prove she moved on long ago."
Suddenly, Ivonne gasped. Her water broke.
The next few hours were a blur of activity. The Pack Doctor arrived. Maids scurried with hot water. Elroy held Ivonne's hand, his face a mask of tenderness I had never seen directed at me.
When the baby was finally born, Elroy held him up like a trophy.
"A son," Elroy breathed. "My heir. The future Alpha."
I looked at the baby. He was chubby and pink. But when I looked closer, with the eyes of a spirit, I saw the truth. There was no golden aura of an Alpha around him. His energy was muddy, chaotic. He smelled like a Rogue-a wolf with no loyalty, no honor.
And he was sick.
The baby's skin turned a terrifying shade of blue. His breathing hitched.
The Pack Doctor, a nervous man named Dr. Vance, scanned the infant with a handheld medical device. His face went pale.
"Alpha..." Dr. Vance stammered.
"What is it?" Elroy snapped, his protective instinct flaring.
"The child... his spiritual core is fractured," the doctor whispered. "It's a congenital defect. His heart cannot pump the mana needed to sustain a wolf form. He will die within hours."
Ivonne screamed. "Do something! Save him!"
"There is only one way," Dr. Vance said, trembling. "A graft. We need spiritual bone marrow to stabilize his core. Specifically, marrow from a direct ancestor with high regenerative properties. The White Wolf bloodline."
The room went silent.
My blood ran cold. The White Wolf. My family. We were legends, healers, rare and hunted. I had kept my lineage a secret to protect us.
Elroy's eyes narrowed. He looked out the window, toward the direction of the Runt Quarters. Toward the incineration pit.
"The girl," Elroy said. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Emma."
"Sir?" Dr. Vance asked.
"Annis was a nobody," Elroy reasoned aloud, pacing again. "But her grandmother... there were rumors she had white fur. If the runt carried even a trace of that gene..."
"The marrow would still be viable," Dr. Vance confirmed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Even if she has passed, the bones protect the essence for up to twenty-four hours. But we must hurry before the decay sets in."
"She is trash," Elroy said firmly. "She was weak in life. Let her serve the Pack in death. Her bones will save the future Alpha."
"No!" I shouted, rushing at him. I tried to punch him, to scratch his eyes out, but I passed through him like smoke. "She is not spare parts! She is your daughter! Don't you touch her!"
Elroy didn't hear my screams. He tapped his earpiece.
"Warriors," he commanded. "Go to the disposal site. Retrieve the girl's body. Bring it to the clinic. Prep for surgery."
He looked at his dying, illegitimate son with love, and then thought of my dead daughter as nothing more than a resource container.
"I will save our son, Ivonne," Elroy promised, kissing her forehead. "Whatever the cost."
I felt a crack in my soul, a deep fissure of hatred that finally overpowered the love I once held for him.
