CHAPTER 5

"Back off, Harrington. Now."

Joshua shoved against Richard’s chest, his palms hitting solid, unyielding muscle. The elevator air turned thick, charged with the Alpha’s frantic, heavy scent of pine and predatory heat. Richard didn't move. He loomed closer, his shadow swallowing Joshua against the mirrored wall.

"You got some nerve," Richard growled, his face inches from Joshua’s. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. "That scent mask is thick. What are you hiding? Why do you have his eyes?"

Joshua sneered, his lip curling with a practiced, icy disdain. He reached up and sharply flicked the Alpha’s tie. "What I have is a medical degree and a very busy schedule. If you want to play detective, do it on your own time. You're acting like a damn lunatic. Is this how the Harrington Pack treats specialists? No wonder your father is rotting from the inside out."

Richard’s jaw tightened, the bone jumping under his skin. "Don't talk about my father."

"Then let me go. Or find someone else to fix your mess. I'm done with the caveman act." Joshua jammed his finger onto the door open button. "You want me to walk? Say the word. I’ll be back in the city before sunset."

Richard’s grip on Joshua’s shoulder lingered for a fraction of a second too long, his thumb bruising the skin through the suit jacket. He stepped back, his eyes still narrow and burning with a dark, obsessive hunger. "Just do your job, Doctor."

Joshua straightened his collar and marched out of the lobby. He didn't look back. He could feel Richard’s gaze drilling into his spine like a physical weight.

The park was a patch of dying grass and rusted swings on the edge of the pack’s neutral territory. Joshua sat on a bench, the wood grain biting into his thighs through his trousers. He checked his watch. 1400 hours.

A figure emerged from the treeline. Robert Scott walked with a stiff, military gait, his face a map of deep lines and bitter history. Joshua’s breath hitched in his throat, but he kept his expression flat. This was his father. The man who had disowned him for being an Omega. The man who hadn't come to his wedding, and certainly hadn't come to his funeral.

Richard stayed fifty yards back, crouched behind the thick trunk of a weeping willow. He watched through the swaying branches. His wolf paced inside him, claws scratching at his ribs. Who is he meeting? Why is his heart rate spiking?

"You're the doctor Brooks mentioned," Robert said, stopping three feet short of the bench. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't smile. He looked at Joshua with the clinical indifference one might show a stray dog.

"Mr. Scott," Joshua replied. The name felt like ash in his mouth. "I have the documents you requested regarding the medical trust."

"Make it quick. I don't like being in this part of town. Too many wolves." Robert spat on the dirt.

Richard’s ears pricked up. Scott? The former General? He watched Joshua reach out, his fingers trembling slightly as he handed over a folder. Richard expected a greeting. A hug. A flicker of familial warmth.

Instead, Robert snatched the folder and began leafing through it. "You're a northern lineage, she said? You look soft. Like those weak omegas the Harringtons used to keep."

Joshua’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the bench. "I assure you, there is nothing weak about my work, General."

"Whatever. Just make sure the funds are diverted correctly. I don't care how you do it." Robert closed the folder and turned to leave. He stopped, looking back at Joshua for a split second. Joshua’s heart hammered against his ribs. Recognize me. Just once. Say my name.

"You remind me of a mistake I once made," Robert said, his voice cold and hollow. "But he died in the mud where he belonged. Don't waste my time again, Doctor."

Robert walked away, vanishing into the grey mist of the afternoon.

Joshua sat motionless. A single tear escaped, hot and stinging, before he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He stared at the empty space where his father had stood.

Richard watched from the shadows. His chest ached with a sudden, sharp pressure he couldn't explain. He had hated Joshua for being weak. He had despised the way Joshua would flinch at a loud voice or a heavy footstep.

But seeing this doctor—this man who stood up to an Alpha’s Command—get treated like garbage by a human old man? It made Richard’s blood boil. His vision tinged with red. A protective snarl vibrated in his throat, surprising even himself. He wanted to leap from the trees and crush the old man’s throat for the way he’d dismissed the doctor.

Why do I care? Richard thought, his fingers digging into the bark of the willow. He’s just a human doctor.

But as Joshua stood up, his shoulders slumped for just a moment before he put the mask back on, Richard knew he wasn't going anywhere. He was going to follow this ghost until he figured out why the doctor’s pain felt like his own.

Joshua turned, his eyes scanning the treeline. He knew Richard was there. He knew the bait had been taken. He adjusted his coat and headed toward his car, leaving the Alpha alone in the dark.

"I'm coming for everything, Richard," Joshua whispered to the wind. "Starting with your head."