CHAPTER 2

FIVE YEARS LATER----

"Scalpel."

Joshua’s voice didn’t wobble. It was a flat, surgical blade of sound that cut through the rhythmic beep-hiss of the ventilator. The overhead lights bounced off the chrome, stabbing at his retinas. Under the blue drape, the patient—Alpha Silas of the Red River—was a mountain of sliced meat and broken ribs.

"Dr. J, his BP is tanking. Eighty over forty," the anesthesiologist barked.

"I know. Shut up and keep him under." Joshua jammed two fingers into the Alpha’s chest cavity, searching for the nicked artery. Hot, metallic-smelling blood flooded over his latex gloves, soaking into his sleeves. "Clamps. Now!"

The nurse scrambled. The metal clicked. The geyser of blood died down to a sluggish ooze. Joshua worked with a frantic, rhythmic precision, his hands weaving through the gore. He didn't think about the fact that this man could snap his neck with one hand. He didn't think about the scent of Alpha pheromones filling the room, trying to trigger a submission response in his Omega bones.

Joshua had killed that response years ago with heavy-duty suppressants and a sheer, icy will to survive.

"Suction. Clear the field. I can't see the damn valve."

"He's stabilizing, Doctor. You actually did it."

Joshua didn't smile. He just stepped back, his boots squelching in the puddles of blood on the floor. "Close him up. I’m done here."

He stripped his gown off in the scrub room, the fabric tearing at the Velcro. He leaned his forehead against the cold tile of the wall. Five years. Five years of hiding in the human city, carving out a name as the best trauma surgeon money could buy. He was Dr. J now. A ghost. A man without a pack.

He splashed cold water on his face, rubbing at a stray droplet of Alpha blood on his jaw. It made his skin crawl.

The drive home was a blur of neon lights and city grit. He parked three blocks away from his apartment, weaving through the alleyways to ensure no one was trailing a scent he didn't even have anymore.

"Henry? I'm home."

The apartment was small, smelling of cinnamon and old books. A small blur of dark hair and mismatched socks collided with Joshua’s knees.

"Daddy! Look! I caught it!"

Henry held up a plastic wolf, its tail chewed off. The boy’s eyes were wide, a startling, familiar shade of amber that made Joshua’s heart stutter. But it wasn't the eyes that stopped Joshua’s breath.

It was the air.

The scent in the room had shifted. Usually, Henry smelled like baby powder and apple juice. Now, there was a sharp, biting undertone. Pine needles. Rain. The smell of a brewing storm.

It was Richard’s scent.

Joshua dropped his keys, the metal clattering on the hardwood. He knelt, pulling Henry into his arms, burying his nose in the boy's neck. It was faint, but it was there. The Alpha gene was waking up. Henry wasn't just a child anymore; he was a ticking time bomb.

"Daddy, you're squeezing too hard," Henry complained, squirming.

"Sorry, bug. I'm sorry." Joshua stood, his hands shaking. He needed more suppressants. Stronger ones. The kind that cost more than a surgeon’s salary.

A heavy knock at the door made him jump. He pushed Henry toward the bedroom. "Go. Under the bed. Don't make a sound."

Henry didn't ask why. He knew the drill. He vanished.

Joshua grabbed a heavy brass lamp from the end table and moved to the door. He peered through the hole.

Danielle Brooks stood in the hallway, her designer suit wrinkled and her blonde hair escaping its tight bun. She looked like she’d been hit by a truck.

Joshua unlocked the deadbolt. "Dani, it’s eleven o'clock. What the f**k?"

"Don't 'what the f**k' me, Josh. We have a problem." She pushed past him, her heels clicking like gunfire. She tossed a thick manila folder onto his kitchen table. "The Harrington Pack. Richard Harrington."

The name hit Joshua like a physical punch to the gut. He felt the phantom pain of a five-year-old claw mark on his shoulder. "What about them?"

"They’ve reached out to my firm. They’re looking for a specialist. A 'Dr. J.' Apparently, Richard’s little pet, Bianca, has a heart condition that’s baffling their pack healers. They’re desperate. They’re offering a blank check."

Joshua let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "Tell them to go to hell. I don't work for wolves. You know that."

"Josh, look at the numbers." Danielle flipped the folder open. "The retainer alone is seven figures. And that’s before the surgical fees. This isn't just 'new car' money. This is 'new identity, move to Switzerland, buy a mountain' money."

Joshua stared at the folder. A photo was clipped to the top—a clipping from the Harrington Business Journal. Richard was on the cover. He looked older. Harder. His jaw was a jagged line of granite, and his eyes held a hollow, haunted look that Joshua didn't recognize.

He looked like a man who had spent five years looking for a ghost.

"They don't know who I am?" Joshua asked, his voice a low hiss.

"They think you’re a human prodigy. The suppressants work, Josh. Your medical license is ironclad under the alias. To them, you're just a tool they can buy."

Joshua looked toward the bedroom door where his son—the Alpha's son—was hiding. Henry’s scent was getting stronger by the hour. Within months, he’d be detectable by any wolf on the street. They needed to disappear. Not just to another city, but off the map.

He looked back at Richard’s face on the magazine. The man who had left him to die in the mud for a girl with a fake fainting spell. The man who had let his child be hunted by rogues.

A cold, poisonous calm settled over Joshua. The fear evaporated, replaced by a sharp, calculating hunger.

"They want Dr. J?" Joshua picked up the folder. His fingers brushed over Richard’s face, tracing the line of his throat. "Fine. They’ve got him."

"You're going back there?" Danielle whispered. "Josh, if they find out—"

"They won't. I'm going to take every cent that bastard has. I'm going to bleed his treasury dry, and then I’m going to vanish with my son so far away he’ll never find us."

He threw the magazine into the trash can, face down.

"Call them back, Dani. Tell them my f*e just doubled."