Chapter 22: Is His Father Usually Consumed with Pack Affairs?

But what tactical motive drove Clara to spin a false narrative, claiming Leo was merely enduring a common stomach purge?

A dark current of suspicion surged uncontrollably within Dominic’s chest.

How many forbidden secrets was this female hiding from his predatory gaze?!

From their very first encounter at the terminal, his inner wolf had registered a hauntingly familiar resonance within her scent.

Even at this exact hour, he could not decode whether her sudden intrusion into his territory was a pure twist of destiny or a meticulously engineered plot. Yet one reality stood absolute within his mind: regarding Leo's lethal almond allergy, Clara Thorne had deliberately masked the truth within his presence.

"Step inside, Clara. The night wind is growing harsh; do not let it compromise your system."

Dominic’s deep, velvety baritone vibrated suddenly above her head, slicing through her defensive thoughts.

She tilted her face up, her dark green eyes colliding directly with the endless depth of his amber gaze.

He stood perfectly rigid against the freezing current, his chiseled profile cast into a sharp shadow beneath the bleeding, crimson hues of the twilight sky. The heavy fabric of his tailored black suit coat whipped against the wind, a clear physical barrier he had intentionally deployed to shield her and the pup from the elements.

A phantom string deep inside Clara’s chest snapped with a sudden, violent vibration. A bittersweet ache bloomed within her consciousness, leaving a heavy trace of sorrow upon her lips.

Once upon a time, during the brutal cycles when she fought the wilderness entirely alone, her spirit had secretly yearned for a dominant protector to shield her territory from the storm.

But her biological creators had merely bartered her flesh like an enterprise asset, and her human foster parents had abandoned her life force to exile; her existence had carried zero sacred meaning to any living creature.

Only Leo—the perfect little wolf pup she brought forth from her own blood—stood as her solitary kin in this entire cruel world.

A fierce, unbreakable determination ignited within Clara’s emerald gaze; Leo was her absolute life force, her entire soul.

She would never permit a single entity across the territories a fraction of an opportunity to violently tear the pup from her den.

Even if that predator was the supreme Alpha King Dominic Vance, she would fight him to her final breath.

"Gratitude for your vigilance, Alpha King," she articulated with perfect, freezing distance. Capturing Leo firmly into her arms, she pivoted and crossed the lounge threshold, refusing to cast a single sensory glance back at his towering form.

Clara understood flawlessly that certain forms of happiness appeared close enough to grasp, yet in reality, they were merely weaponized illusions—beautiful but destined to shatter like glass. Consequently, her strategy demanded she abandon the chase before the trap could close...

"Oh, by the ancient gods, what a flawlessly sweet and obedient pup."

The exact hour her eyes locked onto Leo, Matriarch Evelyn experienced an undeniable, ancestral pull toward his tiny spirit. Without a word of negotiation, she smoothly transferred the pup from Clara’s arms into her own lap, personally carving the finest game to feed his little mouth.

"Is Leo's father usually consumed with heavy pack expansion campaigns across the borders?"

Observing the Matriarch displaying such unprecedented devotion toward the child, Dominic's inner wolf stirred with a strange energy. The old wolf had always harbored a fondness for young offspring, yet his memory recorded zero cycles wherein she had granted a strange rogue pup such immediate bloodline access.

His sudden, sharp interrogation caught Clara thoroughly off-guard, causing her pulse to falter.

"His father... is not within these territory lines."

In truth, her instincts urged her to declare that Leo possessed no sire, that the male who forged him was entirely dead to the world.

Yet, staring directly into Dominic’s strikingly handsome, chiseled face, her vocal cords simply lost the capacity to unleash that specific lie.

Left with no alternative, she deployed the geographic excuse to smooth over his tracking lines.

Dominic’s dark brows knit tight, the final shred of instinctual hope vibrating inside his chest dissolving into absolute ash.

He mocked his own wolf's desperate longing. Countless creatures within the territories suffered from basic elemental restrictions; this allergy was merely a chaotic coincidence of nature.

"My Matriarch, the sacred artifact your authority commanded is present."

Suddenly, a familiar baritone cut through the thick atmosphere surrounding Clara’s senses.

Beta Silas stood before their coordinates, his silver hair immaculate as he presented an ancient, crimson wood vault box to the Matriarch.

"Come, my little Leo, evaluate this relic. Let Grandmother see if it pleases your inner wolf." Evelyn commanded Silas to slide the lid open, unmasking a brilliantly glowing, pure gold protection talisman—an elite safety lock forged by ancient pack smiths.

Clara interjected rapidly, her instincts flaring at the material density of the piece. "Grandmother, this heirloom carries far too high a status; my den cannot accept such a tribute."

"Abstain, Clara. This token is not directed at your standing; it is a sacred blessing bestowed upon the pup’s spirit, carrying zero relevance to your own account!" Evelyn refused to grant her a single heartbeat to execute a refusal, aggressively locking the golden talisman around Leo's neck with absolute authority.