The Unwanted Omega's Hidden Royal Blood

Chloe POV:

I froze, Jackson's fingers a hard circlet around my wrist.

He thrust a small brown paper bag into my hand. The scent rose unmistakable: moon-herbs, a tincture used to channel divine strength to an unborn pup.

Before I could react, the Former Luna's voice carried from the living room. "Jackson? Is that you, darling?" Her footsteps grew closer.

Jackson snatched the bag back, concealing it behind his back.

His mother appeared in the doorway, her gaze falling to his lapel. A small, intricately carved wolf-tooth badge was fastened there.

"Oh, what a stunning piece!" she exclaimed.

Jackson's chest swelled. He met my eyes with deliberate challenge. "It's a gift from Michelle. She is an elite warrior of the aviation guard."

A cold knot formed in my stomach. I thought of the simple, hand-braided leather amulet I had purchased with six months of an Omega's meager savings. He had never worn it. Not once.

The Former Luna clapped her hands. "You really should spend the upcoming full moon night with Michelle."

Jackson tilted his head, a mocking smirk on his lips. Chloe, what do you think? Don't you agree we make a powerful pair? His voice was not a sound but a pressure inside my skull—a trespass of the Mind-Link.

A wave of revulsion rose in my throat. I threw up my mental barriers—a sudden slamming weight of stone and iron—cutting off his voice.

"Your bloodlines are a perfect match. Congratulations," I said aloud, the words tasting of ash.

My adoptive mother bustled over. "Chloe, go fetch the Moonflower gift box we prepared for the Luna!"

As the older women turned toward the living room, Jackson blocked my path. He bent down, reaching for my ankle in a clumsy gesture of appeasement. His fingers brushed my healthy leg, missing by a hand's breadth the one that bore the scar from the Rogue's trap.

He did not even remember which limb had been torn.

A cold, sharp impulse shot through me. I shoved my palm against his shoulder, the unexpected force making him stagger back.

"Practicing your gentle touch for your new role as a father?" I sneered.

Jackson's eyes narrowed. Before he could form a reply, a specialized, staccato howl erupted from his pocket. The custom ringtone he had set for Michelle—and only for her.

*Something cold and ancient stirred in my chest again, stronger this time. A flicker of power I did not recognize. It vanished as quickly as it came, leaving me shivering. I pushed it down, too numb to wonder.