Chapter 3

The metallic tang of blood and antiseptic dragged me back to consciousness. Fire coursed through my chest like molten silver had been poured straight into my veins. I cracked my eyes open, squinting against harsh fluorescent lights in what looked like a medical lab.

"Mr. Hall! Thank God, you're awake." Jason's voice cut through the haze clouding my thoughts. My head of security looked like hell—his usually pristine appearance replaced by worry lines and a tie hanging loose around his neck.

I tried to push myself up, hissing as pain lanced through my torso. Three bandaged wounds, each one wrapped with surgical precision.

"The bullets?" My voice came out like gravel.

"Gone." Jason nodded toward a metal dish holding three silver slugs. "Someone performed emergency surgery right here in this lab. By the time we tracked your phone, you were alone."

Memory fragments flickered—silver eyes, the impossible sensation of safety, and something else... white fur? But more than that, there had been a scent. Faint, almost ghostly, but it had called to something primal deep in my chest. Something I couldn't name or understand.

I closed my eyes, chasing the elusive image. "A woman. Silver eyes. Her scent was barely there, like smoke." My eyes snapped open. "Find her, Jason. I want everything."

"Sir, shouldn't we focus on whoever tried to put you in the ground first?"

I fixed him with a look that could freeze blood. "Do I look like I need reminders about investigating my own assassination? Two priorities, Jason—find who tried to kill me AND who saved me. Both. Now."

Jason straightened like he'd been slapped. "Of course, sir. I've already got teams tracking the shooters."

"Good." I swung my legs off the table, ignoring my body's protests. "Take me to the Center. Michael needs to see this."

The Silver Moon Medical Center was buried beneath an innocuous wellness clinic on Seattle's outskirts. Jason helped me through the private entrance where Dr. Michael waited, already briefed on my condition.

"Alpha Hall," he said with a respectful nod. "Let's have a look."

In the sterile exam room, Michael peeled away the bandages. His eyebrows shot up as he studied the neat sutures.

"Incredible," he breathed, leaning closer. "This surgical technique... I haven't seen work this clean since Alpha Isabel was alive."

"Meaning what?" I watched his expression carefully.

"The silver extraction is flawless—zero residual toxicity in the surrounding tissue." Michael shook his head in amazement. "Whoever did this has extraordinary skill and specialized knowledge. They understood exactly how to counteract silver's effects on our physiology."

Something else nagged at me—the way my wolf had calmed during the surgery, as if her presence alone had been... what? Healing? Comforting? I'd never felt anything like it, and the memory left me unsettled.

"Are there wolves with this level of expertise in Seattle?"

Michael met my gaze. "Not since the Moonheal Pack's Alpha died years ago. Their healing traditions died with him." His expression darkened. "That's why our recent territorial disputes have been so bloody. We're short on skilled healers."

I filed that information away. A gifted healer connected to the Moonheal Pack. A white wolf. The pieces weren't clicking yet.

In my Bentley's backseat, Jason handed me a tablet. "Checked the lab's access logs and surrounding security footage, sir."

I scrolled through the report and froze. A photograph filled the screen—a young woman with porcelain skin, striking silver-gray eyes, and an expression that was both distant and fierce.

"Evelyn Gray," Jason explained. "Twenty-one. Brilliant medical student at Portland University."

"Gray?" My blood chilled. "Moonheal Pack?"

"Yes, sir. William Gray's granddaughter." Jason hesitated. "She was exiled three years ago at eighteen. Right after her first shift."

The revelation hit like a physical blow. "The Gray exile... why don't I have clear memories of it? Any formal pack expulsion should have crossed my desk."

"According to records, the family reported to the Council that she lost control during her first transformation and attacked a human. They also claimed she was collaborating with enemies."

I stared at her photograph, something nagging at the edges of my memory.

The next morning found us at Portland University.

Through tinted windows, I watched students drift across campus. Then I spotted her—walking alone, silver eyes locked ahead, moving with graceful but guarded steps. Unlike the others, she radiated the hypervigilant energy I'd seen in wolves who'd learned to watch their backs.

"That's her," I said quietly. "Bring her to me."

Minutes later, Jason escorted her to the car. She slid into the seat across from me, her expression unreadable.

"Mr. Hall," she said coolly, not a trace of surprise in her voice.

I studied her, searching for any hint of the wolf I'd glimpsed. Up close, her scent was indeed faint—a werewolf whose nature had been somehow muted.

"Miss Gray," I replied, extending my business card. "I'd like to offer you a position with Hall Enterprises' medical research division."

One eyebrow arched slightly. "And why would you do that?"

"Your medical skills are exceptional. We need healers of your caliber."

"You mean your pack needs healers," she corrected, her tone flat. "I'm not interested in pack politics."

"This is an opportunity most people would die for," I pressed, unaccustomed to rejection.

Evelyn's silver eyes met mine directly—a challenge no wolf would dare with an Alpha. "I'm perfectly content with my current life. I've learned to survive without a pack."

Before I could respond, she was reaching for the door. "Next time you get shot with silver, find someone else to patch you up."

I watched her walk away, then casually drop my business card in a trash bin without looking back.

"Sir..." Jason ventured after a moment of loaded silence. "She's... different from other wolves."

I didn't answer, my gaze fixed on her retreating figure. What was this sensation? In all my years, I'd never felt this strange pull, this magnetic connection.

"Dig up everything about the Gray family from three years ago," I finally ordered. "Every detail."

Jason nodded thoughtfully. "You think she was framed?"

I continued staring out the window, an ache spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with bullet wounds. My wolf was restless, agitated by her absence in a way that made no sense.

"I don't know," I admitted, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. "But I'm going to find out."