The Pack Hospital was a joke, but protocol demanded the body be taken there.
I sat on a metal stool. Rodriguez lay on a gurney under a sheet.
Dr. Evans, a beta who had always looked down on me, clicked his pen.
"Cause of death: Heart failure," he muttered.
"He could have been saved," I said. 'My voice was robotic.' "If we had used the regeneration pod."
"The pods are for ranked wolves only," Evans said. "Not for gardeners."
The door banged open.
Damian strode in. 'He looked annoyed, as if death was an inconvenience to his schedule.'
"Are we done here?"
"Yes, Alpha," Evans bowed.
Damian looked at me. Wet, crusted with sludge, smelling terrible.
"Go clean yourself up," Damian ordered. "Hadley twisted her ankle walking down the stairs. She needs a massage."
I slowly turned my head.
"A massage?"
"Yes. You have good hands. It's the least you can do after upsetting her."
'My father lay dead five feet away, and he wanted me to massage his mistress.'
I stood up. I walked over to Damian.
"What?" he asked. "Don't get too close, you stink."
'Smack!'
I put every ounce of strength into the slap.
'It cracked like a gunshot.'
Damian's head snapped to the side. A red handprint blossomed.
Dr. Evans gasped.
Damian turned back. Shock morphed into murderous rage.
"You..." he growled. "You dare strike your Alpha?"
"You are a murderer," I said.
"He was old!" Damian roared.
He grabbed my wrist and slammed my hand down onto the metal medical tray.
"You need a lesson," he hissed. "You need to learn respect."
He grabbed a heavy silver scalpel from the tray. 'He didn't stab me, but he pressed the flat of the pure silver blade against the back of my hand, pinning me to the table.'
"AHHH!"
The scream ripped out of me. 'Silver burns werewolves like acid.' Liquid fire injected into my veins. The smell of searing flesh filled the room.
"Look at it!" Damian yelled.
I looked.
But I didn't just see the silver burn.
I saw the hundreds of tiny, faded white scars on my arm. 'Track marks from five years of needles.'
'Drain the blood. Save the Alpha.'
"Does it hurt?" Damian whispered, sadistic pleasure in his voice. "Good. Maybe this will remind you of your place."
I stopped screaming.
'The pain was blinding, but it cleared my mind completely.'
I looked at the silver. Then at Rodriguez.
'Pack Law says an Alpha can punish an insubordinate Omega.'
The Law protected him.
I didn't need a lawyer.
I needed a King.
"Get out," I whispered.
Damian released the pressure. He stepped back, straightening his suit.
"Tomorrow," he said, breathing heavily. "We will complete the Marking Ceremony. I don't care if you want it or not. You are property."
He walked out.
I stared at my burned hand.
I walked over to the phone on the wall. Dr. Evans cowered in the corner.
I dialed the number.
"We are here," Anderson's voice came through. "I felt your pain, Lia. I felt the silver."
"He's dead, Anderson," I said, devoid of emotion. "Rodriguez is dead."
'Silence on the other end. Terrifying silence.'
"I am at the gates," the Lycan King said. "And I am bringing hell with me."
