C6

Elowen Hartwell keeps her face turned down toward the metal basin while scrubbing the blood-stained medical utensils under the rushing water. Her knuckles are raw and dark, her fingers stiff from the bitter cold radiating off the concrete walls of the Sterling Crown Medical Center ward. The overwhelming stench of heavy wolf-antiseptic, silver cleaner, and sickness stings her nostrils, but she forces her wolf to stay silent under her skin.

"Why do you keep that thick cloth mask tied over your face every second of the day, Elowen?" Faye Waverly asks from behind her, leaning against the doorframe of the washroom.

Elowen pauses, her wet hands hovering over the stainless steel basin. Faye is a recovering beta from a neighboring border pack who spends her afternoons roaming the lower levels of the medical facility, mostly lurking around the basement lounge where the large-screen monitors broadcast the high-stakes pack news of the Sterling Metropolitan District.

Elowen turns her head slightly, keeping her dark skin and amber eyes shielded under the shadow of her hood. "My wolf’s immune system has been weak since I was a pup, Faye. The air in these pack facilities is thick with airborne silver residues and mixed alpha scents. If I breathe it in without a filter, my lungs flare up immediately."

"Ah, the Omega curse," Faye says with a sympathetic nod, adjusting her blanket as she steps back out into the hallway. "It must be absolute hell being built so fragile."

"It has its moments," Elowen murmurs softly, drying her dark hands on a worn towel before walking back toward her mother’s private isolation stall.

Her mother, Evelina Hartwell, lies sound asleep on the narrow cot, her breathing faint and shallow. She had been officially discharged a week prior, but the moment Benedict Hartwell cut off her basic care credits, her condition plummeted, forcing Elowen to drag her back to the facility in secret under an assumed registration name.

Benedict had made his orders explicitly clear before banishing her back to Harborwick Island: if she ever showed her face in Sterling City again, he would have her thrown to the border rogues. But Elowen had no choice. The specialized medical equipment needed to keep Evelina’s failing wolf core alive only existed here at the Sterling Crown Medical Center.

To survive, Elowen hides behind a heavy cloth mask and a dark hood every single day. If anyone in this building realized her face was identical to Marlowe Hartwell—the high-ranked female whose engagement to High Alpha Calloway Sterling was broadcast across every screen in the territory last week—the entire deceit would explode.

Elowen steps into the small washroom to brush her teeth, but when she opens her small kit, she finds the tube completely empty. The bottle of basic coat-cleansing soap is dry too.

She stares at her reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink. Dark circles shadow her eyes, her rich complexion washed out by sheer exhaustion and sleepless nights. No matter how hard she tries to fight it, her mind keeps drifting back to that dark suite at Lagos Holdings—to the terrifying, possessive heat of Calloway Sterling’s alpha frame, the raw weight of his muscular body pressing her into the mattress, and the relentless, searing force of his knot locking her in place while she took his full claim under her sister’s name.

He was your first for everything, her inner voice whispers like a dark plague, making her stomach coil with dangerous heat. And now he belongs to Marlowe.

Elowen splash cold water onto her face, aggressively wiping her skin with a dry towel to drown out the thought. She cannot afford to think about Calloway Sterling. He is the most lethal alpha in the Metropolitan District, a ruthless leader who wears clear-lens glasses to look harmless until he tears his enemies apart with his bare hands. To him, she was just a virgin body in the dark to satisfy his heat. To her, he was the monster who bought her mother's temporary survival.

She grabs her leather coin pouch from her bag, tying her cloth mask back over her mouth before stepping out to the corridor.

"Faye," Elowen calls out softly to the beta woman resting on her bed. "I am stepping down to the ground-level supply depot to pick up basic toiletries for the stall. Will you keep an ear open for my mother's monitor?"

"Go on, girl," Faye waves a dismissive hand, her eyes glued to the small wall monitor. "I’ll scream for Doctor Wallace Pembroke if her vitals drop."

Elowen nods, walking quickly down the cold concrete stairs to avoid the public elevators. She exits the side doors of the medical building and steps out into the crisp air of the territory market square.

She duck into a small pack supply depot, quickly pulling basic soap, fresh linen wraps, and medical salve off the wooden shelves. She carries her items to the front counter, where an old beta female is ringing up goods.

"I will pay you double tomorrow, I swear," a high-pitched, panicked voice says from the front of the line. "Just let me run out to my vehicle to grab my pack credit pouch!"

The beta shopkeeper shakes her head coldly, sliding the goods back behind the counter. "No credit pouches on promise, young man. The Sterling Family security detail strictly enforces immediate barter or cash transactions in this sector. Clear the line."

Elowen looks behind her. A line of impatient alphas and betas is beginning to form, their dark growls vibrating softly in the air.

"Is there a problem?" Elowen asks, stepping forward while pulling a crumpled fifty-credit note from her small leather pouch.

The male standing at the register turns around, scratching the back of his neck in deep embarrassment. He has clean-cut brown hair, wearing a sharp dark uniform bearing the secondary crest of Lagos Holdings security.

"I left my credit pouch in the patrol vehicle parked two blocks away," the male explains sheepishly, his face flushing red. "I just needed these baseline medical supplies for the high alpha's floor."

"Take this," Elowen says, handing her fifty-credit note to the shopkeeper.

"Oh, no, Miss, I cannot take your money," the male says, waving his hands in protest. "I am a high enforcer for the Sterling Family detail. It is disgraceful for me to take credits from an Omega."