Chapter 3

I stared at the old woman in the wheelchair.

Sure enough, her trembling fingers reached for her communicator.

When the Beta brought her over, he made one thing crystal clear: if Jason refused to take care of her, go straight to the retired Alpha Elders. Those old bastards might have stepped down from leading packs, but they held immense networks and ruthless methods. One former Alpha might not mean much, but a whole council of them banded together could give any sitting Alpha a nightmare.

Because of that, the lines I heard most often lately were:

"If you don't give me rare herbs, I'm calling Elder Watson!"

"If you don't hire a master healer, I'm calling Elder Watson!"

"If you don't feed me fresh meat, I'm calling Elder Watson!"

To pull off today's performance, I had catered to her every whim.

The tonics in her bowl and the silver trinkets on her wrists only fed her endless greed and audacity.

She dialed the frequency.

"Watson? It's Karen... Thomas's Karen... Yes... Jason dumped me here to rot, without a single soul to care for me..."

Two hours later, Jason walked back in.

He wasn't dragged back—no one could forcibly haul an Alpha around.

Yet his face was green, looking like he had swallowed a mouthful of flies.

Elder Watson had sent an envoy with an unambiguous message: "You don't leave your father's woman to rot."

There was zero room for debate.

Watson had been out of power for twenty years, but he had personally groomed several of the sitting Alphas. He and a bunch of retired geezers frequently got drunk together, tossing their weight around to lecture the younger generation. What these old men cared about most was their bloated pride—if they felt some junior Alpha didn't show them proper respect, they would blacklist him, smear his name across territories, and secretly rally other packs to squeeze him dry.

Jason could refuse.

The consequence, however, would be the Crimson Pack's northern hunting grounds getting seized by tomorrow, and neighboring packs catching wind that this young Alpha couldn't even show respect to his elders by the day after. If several packs teamed up, not even the Crimson Pack could withstand the fallout.

That was the way of those ancient Alphas—a bunch of arrogant, washed-up relics desperately clinging to the illusion of control. The entire council of elders was a volatile powder keg of raw testosterone and bloated egos, ready to explode at the slightest sign of defiance. Worst of all, they had the connections to enforce it.

As for pregnant Lily?

By pack custom, Jason owed her zero formal obligations.

Instead, this very hag who had stolen his family's wealth and driven his mother to her grave was someone he was now forced to choke down and support, all thanks to a single word from Elder Watson.

Poetic justice.

I used the tyrannical authority of those old Alphas to slam the door on his path to true love.

Didn't he claim he finally understood his father?

Then let him explain to his dead mother in his midnight nightmares just how absurd this generational "true love" really was.

The wheelchair rolled forward.

The old woman thrust out her hand, not showing a shred of shame.

"Jason, why dwell on the past? Isn't your mother back now? That Lily girl is clearly bad news. Take my advice, Mia is the good one. Go get her back right now."

"Shut your mouth!"

Jason shot up, snarling:

"When you cleared out every scrap of food and coin from the pack, did you give a damn whether I starved to death? Now that you're rotting with disease and have nowhere left to run, you suddenly remember you have a son? Where do you get the nerve to order me around?"

Seeing his harsh stance, the old woman merely waved her hand with indifference.

"Fine. If you won't acknowledge me, I won't waste my breath. Elder Watson said you have to take care of me anyway. I don't like that Lily girl. Bring Mia back!"

With that, she rolled straight into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut.

My mind buzzed as Jason's link fired through:

"You brought this old hag back, so you deal with her. I don't have time for your games. This has nothing to do with Lily. She has no duty here."

Look at that.

The classic scheme of a coward.

To him, our mating bond was nothing more than an exploitable trap.

He thought he had found the perfect loophole.

Let Lily enjoy all the perks.

Leave me to bear all the burdens.

The Beta pushed the stinking old woman onto me because pack law dictated it.

The entire pack was helping him scheme against his own mate.

Was he stupid?

Not in the slightest. He knew all too well how to weaponize the mate bond to strip me of everything under the guise of propriety.

I sent the bill back to him once more:

"Settle the outstanding balance first. This covers the expenses for your mother's treatment."

His mental voice snapped right back:

"I told you, she's not my mother. She's a filthy parasite. I don't acknowledge this debt. You treated her without my consent, so that's your problem."

With that, he severed the connection.

Fine. If that's how you want to play, don't blame me for what comes next.