My Alpha Father Bought My Bone Marrow for My Half-Sister

Seventeen years after my father Victor Blackwood disappeared from our lives, a black SUV pulled up outside the window well of our basement apartment. A lawyer stood at the door, his shoes so clean they refused to touch the mud on our steps.

He said the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack was willing to pay fifty thousand dollars for me to be tested as a bone marrow match.

My mother tore the business card in half. Her hands were shaking, but she slapped me anyway. When the second blow landed, I caught the smell of laundry detergent and painkillers on her. "If you take his dirty money," she said, "don't ever call me Mom again."

There was only a spare key on the table. My mother pushed it toward me, the message as clear as it could be: refuse the Blackwoods and stay, or take the money and leave the key behind.

I pushed the key back, grabbed my ID and my old backpack. "That fifty thousand isn't his money. It's my blood," I said. "I'm selling what's mine. He doesn't get to play the generous father."

When the car door shut, my mother didn't come after me. Through the window, I watched her standing at the basement entrance, so thin she looked like a nail that refused to bend.

The Blackwood estate sat on a hill, its circular driveway wide enough to fit more than a dozen cars, with an entire private forest behind the main house. My phone's map showed that even the smallest property nearby cost several million dollars. It hit me then: Victor's fifty thousand wasn't generosity. He was simply certain that a girl who'd spent over a decade in a basement would treat fifty thousand like a gift from fate.

He was waiting for me in the foyer. The moment he saw the handprints on my face, he frowned. "How could Margaret do that to you? How much have you suffered living with her all these years?"

I looked up at the towering chandelier behind him. "You live in a place like this, yet you're only willing to pay fifty thousand dollars for my bone marrow. Are you worried about me, or afraid Claire is running out of time?"

A staff member brought over tea and asked hesitantly, "Alpha, is this your eldest daughter?"

Victor didn't look at me. "No. She's just the donor here for Claire's match."

But the moment he needed something from me, his tone changed. "Wolves protect pups of the same blood. Claire is your sister."

I held out my phone with the transfer screen open. "Then send the fifty thousand first. Mark it as an unconditional gift. If all you want is a donor, don't use father-daughter or sister talk to drive down the price."

I didn't put my phone away until the money cleared. "I'll go to the hospital tomorrow. Tonight, have your wife prepare a decent meal. This donor doesn't have a father. She has a price."