Chapter 17

Zane’s POV

"Are you thinking about rejecting her?" My wolf's voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts, urgent and sharp.

I lean back against the cold stone of the wall, eyes closed, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. "I need to protect her."

"Then keep her close. Don’t push her away," my wolf responds, his tone firm, like an order I can’t ignore.

The thoughts that have been swirling around in my mind for days now twist tighter. We’ve discussed this. Keeping Mabel safe, but I can’t see a way out.

Without her wolf, Mabel doesn't feel the bond. It's like she’s blind to it, untouched by the pull between us. She doesn’t even know how dangerous this situation is. All she knows is that I'm a stranger in her life—a complicated mess of a man she's been pushed toward for reasons she doesn’t fully understand.

"She’ll be attracted to you, Zane," my wolf says, a low growl accompanying the words. "But if you want her to stay, you’ll have to win her heart the hard way."

Romance. I’ve never been good at that. Yet, here I am, stuck in a situation where my survival depends on me becoming the man she’ll fall in love with. She’s not mine. Not yet.

I scowl, thinking about what this means for both of us. Without the mate bond to anchor her feelings, she can easily fall out of love. This whole thing could crumble before it even starts. The mating ceremony, the mark... It would only solidify the bond, but getting her to accept me—that’s the challenge.

My wolf doesn’t say anything more, but I can feel the pressure. The looming reality. And then, another thought hits me, gnawing at my insides.

“Is she the only Omega suffering in the Silverwood pack?” The question hits me hard. Probably not. But that doesn’t make it right.

I’ve made my decision. No matter what happens next, I won’t let her suffer. She deserves better than that.

I step into Alpha Gregory’s office, my mind still tangled with the thoughts of Mabel. But I need to focus. There’s something I have to do here, and it starts with the man across from me.

I don’t waste time with pleasantries. "Alpha Gregory," I start, my voice cold, steady. "I wonder if you're aware of the treatment your Omegas receive."

His eyebrows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. “Can you elaborate on that?” he asks, his voice defensive. He’s already on edge, I can tell.

I lean in slightly, my tone not giving away any emotion. "Are they fed? Taken care of? Treated well?"

Alpha Gregory shifts in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I prefer strong warriors. But that doesn’t mean I’m mistreating anyone. All the Omegas have their own accommodations, three meals a day. They’re free to use the kitchen and eat whenever they need." He pauses, looking at me with a touch of irritation. "And if they mess up, we make them run laps. Pushups. It’s good for their bodies."

I narrow my eyes. "I’m not talking about training them. I’m talking about seeing them bruised, their necks marked with handprints." The anger flares inside me, and I don’t try to hide it.

For a second, there’s silence. I see a flicker in his eyes—he’s not as clueless as he’s pretending to be.

Alpha Gregory sighs, almost reluctantly. “Maybe they had a dispute amongst themselves.”

I meet his gaze, not backing down. "If you’re really unaware, I suggest you speak to your daughter." The words taste like venom in my mouth, but I need him to understand the gravity of the situation. “Lydia needs to learn how to deal with the pack. If she’s using violence as a solution, that will not be tolerated. Not under my watch.”

The tension in the room thickens. Alpha Gregory looks at me, but I see the wheels turning in his head. He’s calculating, playing his own game.

"Lydia’s role as Luna requires a softer touch," I add, my voice hard as steel. "If she can’t handle that, then maybe it’s time for her to step aside."

I leave the office, my mind heavy with thoughts of Mabel, but also of the conversation I just had with Alpha Gregory. I know his mind is working, trying to cover up whatever’s going on in his pack.

As I walk away, the last image of Lydia’s bruised face burns in my mind. Whatever happens next, I won’t let this go. Not until I’ve exposed the truth.