Chapter 249

Hannah

“I don’t like the idea of you going in there by yourself, Alpha Hannah. Not after what that bastard from Darkmoon did to you.”

I frowned as I tugged my hood up, glancing out the car window at the seedy dive bar sitting on the corner. My guards had been especially on edge lately after my little incident with David in the parking garage, and for good reason; the night that had happened, I had told them that I’d be fine on my own, that they didn’t need to hang around while I went to pick up my car.

And I had been fine. Sort of.

“Just… wait here,” I said as I opened the car door. “If I walk in with a gaggle of guards, WhiteRabbit won’t talk to me. You know the drill.”

My head guard, a tall and muscular woman named Emily, growled in response but didn’t argue as I stepped out of the car.

Pulling the blue surgical mask over my nose and mouth to further conceal my identity, I took a deep breath and stepped into the bar. The stench of stale beer and cheap cigarettes assaulted my nose immediately even through the mask, making me wrinkle it in disgust. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, neon signs casting blue and purple hues across the room.

The bar was a seedy place, to say the least. The kind of establishment where you would never expect to see an Alpha, especially a female Alpha, hanging out with online drug dealers.

So as not to raise any suspicions, I walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender, a gruff man with a half-shaved head and arms covered in tattoos, grunted in response to my request for a rum and coke and walked away to make it.

I scanned the room while I waited, my gaze passing over groups of patrons sitting at various tables and booths—playing cards, smoking cigarettes, some slumped over with their heads down and half-full bottles of liquor dangling from their fingers. I tried not to stare for too long, not wanting to look out of place.

Finally, my eyes settled on a corner booth where a lone figure sat, their face obscured by a hoodie. As I watched, a phone screen briefly illuminated their features. A moment later, my own phone buzzed with a message from WhiteRabbit: “Yes, it’s me.”

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my drink and made my way over to the booth, my fingers brushing against the knife in my pocket as I slid into the seat opposite them.

“WhiteRabbit,” I said, keeping my voice low.

The figure looked up, and I found myself staring at a shockingly young girl. She couldn’t have been more than 18, with incredibly pale skin that almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the bar. Dark circles rimmed her large blue eyes, and pin-straight black hair framed her gaunt face. She was dressed in streetwear, various reflective straps catching the light, a white hoodie that looked about four sizes too large, and oversized headphones hanging around her too-thin neck.

“You can just call me Jen,” she said without looking at me, her fingers tapping furiously on her phone. I frowned, glancing down to see that she was playing some sort of mobile game. She cursed as a big red GAME OVER appeared on the screen and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

I raised an eyebrow, studying her face carefully. “Jen. Is that your real name?”

A smirk played at the corners of her lips, a hint of amusement in those enormous blue eyes. “Would it make a difference if it was?”

I shook my head, conceding the point. “Jen it is, then.” I leaned back in the booth, trying to appear relaxed despite the tension coiling in my gut.

Without a word, Jen produced a folded note from her pocket and slid it across the table. The paper was slightly yellowed, as if it had been carried around for a while. I picked it up, unfolding it carefully. My eyes widened as I read her price for the information.

“Political asylum?” I asked, looking back at her. “What did you do?”

Jen’s face remained impassive, but I noticed her shoulders tense slightly. “I… got into a bit of trouble in Darkmoon a few years back. I’ve been in hiding since then.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping even lower. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, so long as you provide me political asylum in Silvermoon.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, considering her offer. Taking in a political fugitive was dangerous, to say the least. But if someone else was out there, potentially wanting to harm my child... Well, I was willing to take that risk.

“Alright,” I finally said, my decision made. “I agree to your terms. I’ll establish a home for you in Silvermoon. A fresh start.” I fixed her with a stern look, hoping my Alpha authority would come through despite our surroundings. “But you must swear to leave drug dealing behind. I won’t harbor a dealer in my pack, and you’ll be under strict surveillance. If you slip up even once, you’ll be sent straight back to Darkmoon.”

I paused, remembering my own encounter with Alpha David, suppressing a shudder. “And trust me, you don’t want to end up in a Darkmoon prison.”

Jen nodded, leaning back in her chair. Her posture relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted from her slender shoulders. “That shouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like I enjoy what I do, you know.”

“Then why do it?” I asked, genuinely curious. She was so young. Too young for that kind of life.

She shrugged, her eyes darting around the bar before settling back on me. “I’ve got bills to pay, and customers who need a fix.” Her eyes met mine, a knowing look in them that made my body instinctively tense. “You were one of them up until last year.”

I suppressed a shiver, memories of those dark days flooding back. The desperation, the self-loathing, the constant hunger... I was glad to have left that behind. But hearing her mention it so casually brought it all rushing back.

To my surprise, Jen’s expression softened slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “You look good, by the way. Healthy.” She glanced down at her hands. “I used to watch you on the news, knowing you were the one buying my diet pills. Always felt a little guilty seeing you get skinnier and skinnier.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, not wanting to dwell on those memories.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said flippantly, leaning forward, eager to change the subject. “Now, about that information…”

A grin spread across Jen’s face, her big blue eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. “Right. You’re not going to believe who it was…”

…

A few days later, I stood in my father’s study, watching as the color drained from his face. The room felt too small suddenly, the air too hot and heavy. My father sank into his chair, his hands trembling as he set down the report I had just handed him.

“I just can’t believe it,” he murmured, passing a hand over his weary face.

I nodded grimly, my jaw set hard. “It’s true. Alvin tried to kill my baby.” The words felt bitter on my tongue, almost impossible to say out loud.

“But… Why?” my father muttered. “I can’t imagine why he’d want to do such a thing…”

“I don’t know.” My fingers tightened around the warrant for my cousin’s arrest, the paper crinkling in my grip. “But either way, he’s going to pay.”