CHAPTER 4

"Who are you? Seriously. Put the chart down."

Helen Harrington stood in the center of the sterilized hallway, her fingers trembling against the silk of her pearls. She looked older. Gray hair streaked through the chestnut waves that used to be her pride. Her eyes, wet and wide, scanned Joshua’s face like she was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

Joshua didn't flinch. He adjusted the stethoscope around his neck, the metal cold against his skin. "I'm the surgeon you hired, Mrs. Harrington. Dr. J. Now, if you’ll move, I have a schedule to keep."

"No." She stepped closer, her breath hitching. "The way you tilt your head... your eyes. You look just like him. My Joshua. My son."

Joshua’s stomach did a slow, nauseating roll. He remembered the last time he’d seen this woman. She’d turned her back on him while Richard dragged Bianca away, her silence a sharp blade that helped carve out his heart.

"Your son is dead, Mrs. Harrington. I’m from a distant lineage out of the northern territories. Common features, nothing more." He stepped around her, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum. "Now, out of the way. I have a patient."

He pushed into the VIP suite. The smell of rot and expensive cologne hit him. Edward Harrington, the Patriarch, lay in the bed like a fallen monument. His skin was a translucent, sickly gray. Silver poisoning.

"Get out," Edward wheezed, his eyes snapping open. "I don't need a human butcher."

"I'm not a butcher, and you’re dying," Joshua said. He pulled back the sheets, exposing the man’s swollen, blackened veins. "The silver in your blood is at lethal levels. How did this happen?"

"A rogue attack. Three months ago. Nicked by a blade."

Joshua’s hands moved with clinical speed. He pressed his thumb against a specific node in Edward’s neck. The man groaned. Joshua pulled a vial of clear fluid from his kit and dropped a sample of the man’s sweat into it. The liquid turned a deep, bruised purple.

"A blade doesn't do this," Joshua muttered, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "This is a slow-acting toxin. Refined. Concentrated. Someone has been putting this in your food for months, Edward. This isn't an accident. It’s an execution."

Edward’s eyes bulged. "What? That’s impossible. Only my family—"

"Exactly." Joshua capped the vial. "Keep your mouth shut if you want to stay alive. I’ll run the labs myself. Don't touch the hospital food."

He turned on his heel and strode out, his heart hammering against his ribs. The house was infested. If they were killing the Patriarch, they wouldn't hesitate to kill a rogue doctor if he got too close.

He hit the elevator button, the metal doors sliding open with a soft chime. He stepped inside, but before the doors could close, a hand slammed against the sensors.

Richard.

The Alpha stepped into the small, cramped space. He was radiating heat, the scent of cedar and old blood thick enough to taste. He didn't say a word. He just stood there as the elevator began to rise.

Suddenly, Richard lunged. He didn't strike. He shoved Joshua back against the mirrored wall, his forearm pinning Joshua’s throat just enough to be felt. Richard buried his face in the crook of Joshua’s neck, inhaling so sharply it sounded like a growl.

"Richard, get off me!" Joshua shoved at the man’s chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

"Shut up," Richard rasped. He was shaking. His nose dragged along the sensitive skin behind Joshua’s ear, sniffing aggressively, desperately. "That scent... that chemical smell you wear. It’s a mask. Why?"

"It’s a suppressant patch, you idiot. I’m a doctor."

"No." Richard pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark, blown out with a terrifying intensity. His grip tightened on Joshua’s waist, his fingers digging into the flesh. "Beneath the bleach. Beneath the steel. I can smell a ghost, Doctor. You smell like a dead man's memory. You smell like my Joshua."

Joshua’s breath hitched. Richard was close—too close. The weight of the Alpha’s body pressed him into the glass. Richard’s hand slid up, cupping Joshua’s jaw, his thumb dragging across his lower lip.

"Tell me who the f**k you are," Richard growled, his forehead dropping against Joshua’s. "Before I tear this elevator apart."