C4

"Start the extraction. Now."

I didn't bother looking up at the grieving man standing by the steel table. I just adjusted the focus on my headlamp, the sterile white light catching the sharp glint of the silver-edged scalpel in my hand.

"Wait, I have more to ask!" Silas Crowe started forward, his scent spiked with the sour tang of desperation. "The way she was marked—is it really him? The rogue?"

A massive hand clamped down on Silas’s shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. I finally flicked my gaze up, meeting Alpha Ronan Blackridge’s stare. He didn't say a word, just gave a single, slow shake of his head at Silas.

He stepped closer to the table then, his presence looming over me like a thundercloud. His eyes, dark as a winter moon, tracked my movements with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.

I could smell him—not just the cedar and cold air, but something else. A deep, primal musk that made the fine hairs on my neck stand up.

Ronan’s fingers twitched at his side. He was thinking about earlier—about the way I’d fallen into him, the way my scent had probably hit his lungs like a drug. I was taller than most, a solid six feet of lean muscle, but against him, I felt manageable. My hair had brushed his throat when he caught me, and for a split second, the world had gone quiet.

He shifted his weight, his eyes dropping to my hands. He watched me work with a predator’s focus, noting the way I handled the blade, the way I dictated findings to Maya without missing a beat.

"You’re focused," he rumbled, his voice a low vibration in the small room. "Most people can't breathe in here. You look like you were born for the hunt."

"Death doesn't lie, Captain," I replied, my voice steady despite the weight of his gaze. "It’s the only thing in Grimford that’s honest."

"Interesting." He narrowed his eyes, a ghost of a smirk playing on those thin lips.

The procedure took another thirty minutes of grueling, silent work. Once Maya had secured the tissue samples for the Lunar Lab, I printed the preliminary reports. I handed the first copy directly to Ronan.

He raised a dark brow, his fingers brushing mine as he took the file.

"My cousin... please, Dr. Quinn," Silas choked out, his voice breaking. "Tell me you found something."

"The trauma is identical to the other three Omegas," I said, forcing my voice to remain clinical even as my gut twisted with sympathy. "The bite patterns, the silver-trace residue—it’s the same killer. Once the DNA from the claw-beds is processed, we’ll have a name."

"That monster!" Silas slammed a fist into his open palm. "It’s my fault. I shouldn't have brought him into the city. He just made the varsity hockey team... he had his whole life. It's on me."

Watching a grown wolf break is a heavy thing. Silas buried his face in his hands, sobbing with a jagged, raw sound that echoed off the tiled walls.

Ronan finished the report, tucked it into his jacket, and tossed a clean handkerchief toward Silas. He kept his eyes on me. "How did you recognize me at the gate, Jack? I’ve been out of the Northern Territory for a decade."

"The Chief mentioned a new Alpha was taking the Blackridge Pack," I said, reaching for the disinfectant. "Hard to miss the news."

"He showed you a file? A photo?"

"You're Alpha Ronan Blackridge," I said, finally meeting his gaze head-on. "The man who broke the Siege of the Ironcrest Sector. You’re not exactly a ghost in the enforcement system. Why does it matter?"

"It’s just... strange."

I stiffened slightly. "I’m sorry if my awareness offends your sense of mystery, Captain."

"It doesn't offend me." Ronan took a step closer, his scent overwhelming the smell of chemicals. "It intrigues me. Call me when the DNA hits the server."

He grabbed Silas by the arm, hauling the younger wolf toward the exit. I watched them go, my shoulders only dropping once the heavy steel door hissed shut.

"How is it still him..." I whispered to the empty room.

I leaned back against the counter, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. The world was too small. Ten years ago, the summer before I started medical school, I’d met a boy. A rough, quiet Alpha who looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in a world of teeth and claws.

I thought it was a fluke. A one-off encounter. I never expected to see those same obsidian eyes staring at me across a morgue table.

I was shaking it off, ready to head home, when Maya burst back into the room, her face pale.

"Jack! The DNA results just bypassed the queue—it’s not Silas's suspect! It’s a completely different profile, something we’ve never seen!"

"What?" I grabbed my coat, but Maya wasn't done.

"And your boyfriend is losing it in the lobby! He’s started a fight!"

I didn't even wait for her to finish. I grabbed my phone and dialed the Enforcer line. "Captain, we have a lead. And I have a problem."

The lobby of the Blackridge HQ was a mess of shattered glass and shouting. Evan was being held back by two Enforcers, while a younger wolf named Gregory—a delivery boy from the local florist—sat on the floor, bleeding from his lip.

"Dr. Quinn, thank the Moon you’re down here!"

The desk sergeant looked at me like I was a life raft. "Your partner is out of his mind. Gregory here was just bringing you the usual birthday arrangement, and the moment this guy saw him, he jumped him. Right in the middle of the precinct!"

"I’m sick of this!" Evan screamed, his eyes wild. "I want to see my partner! You can't keep me from him!"

I walked straight past Evan, ignoring his reaching hands. I knelt in front of Gregory, checking the swelling on his jaw. "Gregory, can you hear me? Does anything else hurt?"

"I'm fine, Dr. Quinn... just a bit dizzy."

"Did he hit you anywhere else? Your ribs? Your head?"

"No... just my face."

I let out a breath of relief. "He struck you. That’s assault on pack grounds. He’s going to pay your medical bills and your lost wages. Don't let the Enforcers go easy on the paperwork. Understood?"

Gregory looked up at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're... you're not going to cover for him?"

"He broke the law. Go."

I stood up, and before Gregory could even scramble away, Evan let out a howl of fury.

"Jack! What are you doing? You’re siding with a delivery mutt over me?"

"Did you or did you click him in the jaw, Evan?"

"He’s been sniffing around you for months! Every time I come here, he’s handing you flowers. You think I’m stupid? He’s obsessed with you!"

Evan stepped toward me, a sneer curling his lip. "I bet he’s just stealing the leftover scraps from other orders and pretending they're for you to get close. He’s a nobody, Jack. You’re mine. I won't let some bottom-feeder covet what belongs to me."

I looked at Evan—the man I’d loved for seven years—and for the first time, all I felt was a deep, bone-chilling disgust.