chapter 6

Scarlett's POV

I stood beside my father's body until the doctors came to prepare him.

Then I stepped outside, leaned against the cold corridor wall, closed my eyes, and gave myself exactly sixty seconds to fall apart.

Sixty seconds. That was all I could afford.

When I opened my eyes again, Usher was waiting nearby with the patience of someone who understood grief without needing to fill it with noise.

"There is something you should know," he said quietly. "Alpha Dominic of Ashwood is hosting a ball in two days. He has extended an invitation to you."

"I want to take my father's body to Moonlight Pack first," I said.

"I will handle the arrangements personally," Usher said. "The funeral details will need to be discussed with Luna Christine and the pack elders."

"Christine?” I asked softly.

“She is the Luna Alpha Arther married after your mother passed,” Usher explained.

Something twisted inside me. But I didn’t say anything.

Then Usher looked at me again. “But, my lady… I think you should attend the ball because it's Alpha Arther's last wish.”

My chest tightened again.

Goddess, that one sentence felt heavy. Like a promise I couldn’t break.

I closed my eyes briefly.

Then nodded.

"I’ll go.”

.....

Later that day, I returned to my new house.

It was already prepared. Usher had arranged everything perfectly.

But still…

It felt empty.

I stood in the middle of the room for a long time.

My mind kept going back to my father, remembering his last word.

No.

I can’t stay like this.

I have things to do.

I walked to the table and picked up a file Usher had given me on Alpha Dominic of Ashwood.

I read it twice.

Then I sat back and looked at the ceiling.

There was almost nothing there. Just wealth on a scale that made Killian's assets look like pocket change. Confirmed power — the kind that made other Alphas lower their voices when they mentioned him. A reputation for ruthlessness that appeared in every secondhand account without anyone ever offering a specific story to support it, which somehow made it more credible, not less.

No photograph. No personal history. No alliances listed.

Mysterious was an understatement. This man had gone out of his way to be an absence on paper.

....

Henry, Dominic's Beta, arrived at my door on the evening of the ball.

"My lady," he said, with a bow that was genuine rather than performed. "I'm Henry, Beta of Ashwood. I'll be escorting you this evening."

"And Alpha Dominic?" I asked, pulling on my coat.

"He's attending to some urgent matters. “He will see you later.”

Later.

I didn’t like that.

But I didn’t argue.

..........

The Ashwood ball was held in one of the biggest hotels in the pack.

It was the kind of event that communicated power simply by existing.

Wolves from a dozen packs moved through the space in their finest, the air thick with perfume and politics and the particular performance of people who needed to be seen by the right eyes.

I moved through it quietly.

I was good at that. Years of standing slightly behind Killian had made me excellent at existing in rooms without drawing attention — observing, cataloguing, understanding the current of a space before I decided where to place myself in it.

Just then, I saw Killian and Tiffany across the room. Her arm was wrapped around Killian with the comfortable possessiveness she no longer bothered to disguise in public settings. She was laughing at something, her head tilted toward him, a picture of easy intimacy.

I felt nothing but clarifying disgust, the way you feel when you see something you once touched and can't believe you didn't wash your hands sooner.

They didn’t even notice me.

Good.

I walked to the bar and picked up a glass of champagne.

But I didn’t drink it.

Because something else caught my attention.

Two familiar figures.

Alpha Andrew of Blackfang and his Luna.

I watched his Luna closely as she kept coughing. Three times in quick succession, each one tight and difficult, the sound of airways that didn't open the way they should.

Alpha Andrew was one of Killian’s biggest investors. And recently, he had been preparing to collaborate with Killian to produce drugs to treat werewolf asthma. For his Luna.

My lips pressed into a thin line as I picked up my champagne and walked over.

“Alpha Andrew,” I said calmly.

His attention shifted to me immediately.

Sharp, evaluating, and suspicious.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice filled with irritation.

“I’m Scarlett,” I replied simply.

His brows furrowed slightly. Before he could dismiss me, I spoke again.

“Your Luna has asthma.”

There was silence.

Andrew’s expression darkened instantly. His aura pressed down like a storm.

“How dare you...”

“I can treat her.” I cut him off.

My voice was calm and steady.

But that only made it worse. His eyes turned cold. Dangerously cold.

“You?” he scoffed. “An Omega dares to stand before me?”

The word carried weight.

“I suggest you leave before I have you thrown out.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out a single flower.

Small and delicate. Glowing faintly under the lights.

The air around us shifted as Andrew’s eyes snapped to it instantly with shock.

Real shock.

"Moonflower,” he breathed.

I met his gaze unshaken.

"The single most critical ingredient in treating werewolf asthma," I said. "Grown in Moonlight Pack territory, which is why you've never been able to source it reliably. I have a full supply." I closed the case. "I'm not here to sell it to you. I'm suggesting a collaboration. My research, my resources — in exchange for a partnership that works for both of us."

A long silence.

Andrew looked at the flower. Then at me. Then at his Luna, who was looking at the flowers with the quiet, undisguised hope of someone who had stopped hoping carefully a long time ago.

“I am the successor of Moonlight Pack,” I said quietly. “And I don’t speak without knowing what I’m saying.”

Silence fell again. But this time, it was different.

Andrew looked at me again. His tone changed.

"You can treat her?” he asked, his voice lower now.

“Yes.”

Something shifted in his expression.

“Then, I'm more than willing to collaborate with you.” His gaze softened slightly as he glanced at his Luna.

Then he looked back at me.

“I don’t want to discuss this here,” he added. “Too many ears.”

A brief pause.

“Would you be willing to meet with me after the ball?” he asked. “Or… at a place of your choice?”

It's not an order. It was a request.

I gave a small nod.

Deal.

Just then, I saw Killian and Tiffany again, walking toward us.

My body stiffened.

I didn’t want him to see me.

Not like this.

“I’ll excuse myself,” I said quickly and turned away before they could see me.

But I didn’t go far. I stopped at a distance, where I could still see and hear them.

Killian approached Andrew with a wide smile.

“Alpha Andrew,” he greeted.

Tiffany stood beside him, clinging to his arm and smiling like an idiot.

I could see it clearly.

He needed this investment.

Especially now… when the silver poison drug issue was still unresolved.

He had no choice.

"We were hoping to discuss the investment," Killian began smoothly. "The asthma medication project. I think you'll be very pleased with where our research is headed."

"Tell me about the formula," Andrew said. "Specifically the core ingredients."

Before Killian could speak, Tiffany stepped forward proudly.

“I’m the head of drug development now,” she said with a bright smile. “The formula is simple—blood vine, silver root grass, and rose.”

I almost laughed.

Almost.

Andrew’s face turned cold instantly.

"Blood vine," he repeated. "Silver root grass. And rose."

"That's right," Tiffany said, either not reading the room or choosing not to. "We're very confident in the..."

"Do you know," Andrew said, with the measured quiet of someone restraining genuine anger, "what happens when you administer silver root grass to a werewolf with compromised airways?"

Tiffany opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

"It constricts them further," Andrew said. "It has been documented as actively dangerous in respiratory cases for over forty years." He looked at Killian, and the disappointment in his eyes was withering. "You came to me for a collaboration on treating werewolf asthma, and your head of research doesn't know the most fundamental contraindications?"

Killian's smile had gone completely.

"Tiffany..." he started.

"I am very disappointed," Andrew said simply, "In Silver Moon's research capabilities."

He lifted his hand slightly and said something to the guards beside him.

In seconds, two guards materialized at Tiffany's sides.

Her face drained of color.

“W-wait… no, this must be a mistake...” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Killian, say something! Tell him! I... I know the formula, I just...” Her words broke into panic.

“I can fix this! Please, don’t do this to me!”

But no one moved. The guards took her arms.

“Let go of me!” she cried, struggling now. “Killian! You can’t just stand there! Do something!”

Killian didn’t move or say a word, he just stood there in humiliation.

She was dragged away before she could say anything more.

The hall fell quiet.

Killian remained where he was, his face pale, his pride shattered in front of everyone.