Chapter 6; Kira’s POV

“Damon...” Jeremy hesitated, his voice tight. “Alpha, perhaps we should at least verify with the clinic—” “I gave you an order, Beta!” Damon roared, his pressure filling the room until the windows rattled in their frames. Jeremy flinched, his head dropping. “Yes, Alpha.” He walked over to where I was still kneeling, extending a hesitant hand. “Luna... please. Come with me.” I didn't take his hand. I looked up at Damon one last time. He had already turned his back to me, bending slightly to whisper something reassuring to Seraphina, who was looking over his shoulder with a tiny, triumphant smirk curving her lips. Right then and there, something inside me didn't just break—it died. The desperate pleading, the embarrassing tears, the five long years of begging for a crumb of affection from a man who wished I didn't exist—it all burned away, leaving behind a cold, hollow void. I stood up slowly on my own two feet. I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, smoothed down my coat, and picked up the crumpled medical request from the floor. I didn't say another word. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I simply turned around and walked out of the office. The drive home was a blur of silent rage and icy focus. Begging Damon was over. The soul bond he refused to acknowledge, the marriage I had fought so hard to save, the pride I had sacrificed—none of it mattered. My daughter was dying, and if her father was willing to sign her death warrant to play savior to another woman's child, then I would save her myself. The Star-Lotus extract requires immediate funding by tomorrow morning. The physician’s words repeated in my mind like a ticking clock. The amount was staggering—more money than an un-titled pack member could ever gather in a lifetime. My personal savings account was practically empty, capped by pack laws that kept financial power strictly in the hands of the Alpha. I had no assets in the Bloodmoon Pack. But I had my lineage. I pulled into the driveway, killed the engine, and rushed inside the house. “Mama?” Nora’s weak voice called out from the living room couch. My heart seized. She was wrapped in three heavy blankets, her small frame shivering violently despite the room being warm. I rushed to her side, pressing my hand against her forehead. Her skin felt like burning embers. Dark, purplish-black veins—the undeniable physical mark of the werewolf cancer consuming her rapid-healing cells—were beginning to faint faintly under the translucent skin of her wrists. Time was almost up. The four-week estimate had been a lie born of hope. Her body was giving out now. “Mama’s here, sweetie,” I choked back the knot in my throat, kissing her burning forehead. “Are you in pain?” “My bones feel heavy,” Nora whimpered, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to keep them open. “Is Daddy coming back tonight? You said... you said he would help.” A sharp, searing pain pierced my chest, but I didn't let a single tear drop. I tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Daddy is busy, sweetie,” I said, my voice steady, stripped of all emotion. “But Mama is going to fix this. I promise you. Just rest. I’m going to make a phone call.” I waited until her breathing evened out into a fitful sleep before stepping into the kitchen. I walked over to the kitchen counter where Damon’s divorce settlement papers had been sitting untouched for days. I picked up the pen resting beside them. Without reading the clauses, without negotiating for alimony, and without asking for a single coin of his fortune, I flipped to the final page and dragged the pen across the line. Kira Vance. I left the signed contract right in the center of the kitchen island, placing my silver Luna crest ring directly on top of the paper. If Damon wanted me gone, he had his wish. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed a number I had sworn I would never touch again—a encrypted frequency given to me years ago by an outcast rogue broker who operated in the lawless neutral territories outside the pack borders. A man who traded in ancient relics, forbidden bloodlines, and dark favors. The line clicked open on the third ring. “Well, well,” a raspy, deep voice purred through the speaker. “If it isn't the noble Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack. To what do I owe the honor?” I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white, my heart hardening into pure steel. “I need a massive medical transfer,” I said, my voice cold, sharp, and unwavering. “Delivered to the pack clinic by dawn. No questions asked.” The voice let out a dark chuckle. “That kind of money costs more than gold, little wolf. What could you possibly have that is worth that much to me?” I looked back toward the living room where my dying daughter lay shivering under the blankets, then down at my bare ring finger. “My bloodline,” I stated clearly. “My freedom. And an ancient royal covenant. Give me the funds by morning, and after my daughter is healed... I am yours.” “Deal,” the voice on the other end of the line purred, smooth as silk and dripping with lethal satisfaction. “The funds will clear in the pack clinic’s account before the sun touches the horizon. But remember, little wolf... once your daughter’s blood is clean, you belong to the shadows.” The line went dead. I pulled the phone away from my ear, my chest heaving as the silence of the kitchen settled back over me. My hand was steady as I deleted the call log. I didn't care about the price. I didn't care about whatever debt or servitude I had just signed my life away to. Nora would live. That was the only truth that mattered in my universe. I turned back to the living room, gathering my daughter into my arms. Her small body felt terrifyingly light, her skin radiating heat that made my own wolf whimper in distress. I wrapped her tightly in a thick fleece blanket, carried her out to my car, and buckled her into the backseat. We drove through the pitch-black pack territory in complete silence. The streets were deserted, the streetlamps casting long, ghostly shadows across the concrete. When I pulled up to the rear entrance of the pack clinic, the physician was already waiting by the glass doors, his face pale and eyes wide with exhaustion and disbelief. “Luna Kira!” he gasped as I carried Nora inside, rushing to assist me with a gurney. “The clinic’s account... a massive private wire just cleared. The full amount for the Star-Lotus synthesis! How did—?” “Administer the serum,” I interrupted, my voice dropping into a tone so cold and command-heavy that the physician froze mid-sentence. “You have the funds. The serum is ready. Save my daughter.” He swallowed hard, nodding vigorously. “Right away! We’ve already begun processing the compound in the lab. If we begin the transfusion now, the fever should break within twelve hours.” As the nurses wheeled Nora into the sterile isolation room, I stood by the glass window, pressing my hand against the cold surface. Inside, my sweet girl was hooked up to IV lines, the glowing pale-blue liquid of the Star-Lotus extract slowly dripping into her veins. For the first time in weeks, the violent shaking in her limbs began to subside. The purplish veins on her wrists didn't disappear, but their spreading stopped dead in its tracks. A heavy, shaky breath escaped my lips. She was fighting. She was going to make it. I stayed by her side through the rest of the night, holding her tiny hand while the machines chimed rhythmically. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I simply watched the life return to her cheeks, minute by minute, until the first rays of dawn began to spill through the blinds. Around 8:00 AM, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. I picked it up. It was a text message from Beta Jeremy. Alpha Damon is requesting your presence at the Pack Hall for the morning assembly. He wants the dissolution papers finalized before noon. I stared at the screen, a bitter, lifeless smile touching my lips. He couldn't even wait for the ink to dry on his own cruelty before rushing to erase me. I leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against Nora’s forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch now. Her fever had broken. The doctor had confirmed moments ago that the cancer cells were stabilizing and retreating. “Mama will be right back, sweetie,” I whispered into her hair. I stood up, pulled my coat around my shoulders, and walked out of the clinic.