The Rejected Healer: Her Rise as the White Wolf

Aliana POV:

The next morning, Ivan came home smelling of betrayal.

I was in the kitchen, brewing coffee I didn't intend to drink. The front door opened, and he walked in, looking impeccably fresh in a new suit. But beneath the expensive cologne, I could smell her. The orchid musk was clinging to his skin, woven into his very pores.

"Morning, beautiful," Ivan said, coming up behind me.

He wrapped his arms around my waist. My skin crawled. It felt like thousands of insects were skittering across my flesh. My inner wolf snarled, a deep, guttural sound that echoed in my skull. Traitor. Filth.

He leaned down to kiss my neck, right over the spot where a mate mark should have been.

"I have a sore throat," I said, pulling away sharply. "I don't want to get you sick before the merger."

Ivan paused, a flicker of irritation crossing his eyes before he masked it with concern. "You work too hard, Ali. You should rest. Once we're married, you won't have to work at the hospital anymore."

Because you plan to lock me away or throw me out, I thought.

"Maybe," I forced a smile. "Go shower. You smell like... the outdoors."

Once the bathroom door clicked shut and the water started running, I moved.

I didn't go to the bedroom. I went to his study.

The door was locked with a biometric scanner. Ivan thought I was just a simple Healer, a soft-hearted woman who patched up warriors. He forgot who handled the installation of the security grid for the estate.

I pulled out my tablet and connected it to the smart-home hub. I didn't need his finger. I had the admin override codes he was too lazy to change from the factory default.

"Access Granted," the screen flashed.

The lock disengaged with a soft thud.

I slipped inside and went straight to the wall safe. The code was easy—his birthday. Narcissist.

Inside, I found what I was looking for. A stack of financial records.

I flipped through them, my surgeon's eyes scanning the data. Monthly transfers of fifty thousand dollars to a shell company registered in Kiera's name. Notes on "Cub Support."

And then, a blue folder.

I opened it. It was a DNA test report for Leo.

Subject: Leo Reese.

Paternity: 99.9% Match to Ivan Hughes.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but my brain was cold. I looked closer at the data charts. I deal with genetics daily. Something was wrong. The allele markers on the second page didn't align with the summary on the first.

The summary said "Match." The raw data suggested... something else. Inconsistencies.

It looked tampered with. But there was something else in the stack. A legal draft titled "Patent Transfer Agreement."

I skimmed it, my breath hitching. It wasn't just about territory. It was about my work. My research on rapid cell regeneration—worth billions to the pharmaceutical companies. The contract stipulated that upon marriage, all my intellectual property would transfer solely to the Hughes Pack.

"You greedy bastard," I whispered.

I pulled out a flash drive and copied everything—the bank transfers, the emails between Ivan and my father, the fake DNA report, and the patent theft draft.

Suddenly, the hidden camera in the corner of the room whirred.

A sharp pain spiked in my temple. A Mind-Link.

It wasn't Ivan. It was a foreign, intrusive voice, slithering into my head like oil.

Did you find what you were looking for, mutt?

Kiera.

She wasn't in my pack. She shouldn't be able to Mind-Link me. She must be using a witch's totem.

Stay out of my head, I projected back, shielding my mind.

I just wanted to show you something, her voice giggled.

My phone buzzed. A picture message.

It was a selfie. Kiera, wearing nothing but a silk sheet, and around her neck was a necklace. A heavy, silver pendant with a blue moonstone.

The Donovan Heirloom. My grandmother's necklace. The one my mother swore was being polished at the jeweler's for my wedding day.

It looks better on me, don't you think? Kiera's voice echoed in my mind. Your mother gave it to me yesterday. She said it suits a real Luna.

I stared at the screen. The grief that had been threatening to drown me evaporated. In its place, a fire ignited. A white-hot, blinding rage.

They stripped me of my dignity. They mocked my love. They stole my birthright.

I looked at my reflection in the dark monitor of the computer. My eyes, usually a warm hazel, were flashing with a pale, silver light.

My inner wolf stood up, shaking off the chains of submission I had placed on her for years to fit into this "civilized" family.

No more, she growled. We hunt.

I pulled the flash drive, wiped my fingerprints from the safe, and walked out.