Chapter 3

Jocelyn's POV

Alistair exchanged a heavy look with Darius.

"I'm sorry," he looked at the kneeling Omega, dropping his voice. "We found a female corpse in the old lumberyard—"

The man's defenses crumbled. He collapsed onto the floor, wailing.

Alistair frowned, about to ask if his wife had any enemies.

Suddenly, the man's phone rang in his pocket. The moment he answered, he froze.

"Honey? Your phone died and your wallet was stolen yesterday...?" he laughed through tears, his hands shaking violently. "You just went to set up our anniversary surprise early? God, you scared me to death!"

Weeping tears of joy, the man bowed repeatedly to Alistair before sprinting out the door to reunite with his safe, healthy wife.

Silence reclaimed the corridor.

I hovered near the ceiling, silently watching the lovers soon to be reunited. Alistair stood rooted to the spot, wordless.

His only lead on the identity of the corpse was gone.

No one knew the unclaimed body was me.

Three more days passed—seven days since I went missing.

"Jocelyn has been unreachable for seven days! Stop lying to yourself that she's throwing a tantrum, Alistair!"

Eamon kicked the office door open.

Sitting behind his massive desk, flipping through files, Alistair didn't even look up. "Today is Sylvie's boutique opening."

"Don't bring up that woman. It's sickening."

Eamon's chest heaved. He slammed his hands onto the desk. "You are insane. If you insist on being blind, I will go find her myself!"

Alistair erupted. He vaulted over the desk and punched Eamon square in the jaw. Eamon staggered back, blood seeping from his lip, but he didn't fight back.

"Keep out of my marriage! And do not deploy pack resources to find an ungrateful bitch!" Alistair grabbed him by the collar, his eyes freezing over. "Think I don't know your dirty thoughts? Keep your disgusting fantasies off your Luna. My mother saw through your little affair five years ago! Just let her die out there for all I care."

Floating between them, I was forced to listen as he hurled the most venomous, baseless insults at me.

Eamon wiped the blood from his mouth. There was no anger in his eyes, only exhaustion, and perhaps a flicker of pity.

Right then, Alistair's phone rang. It was Vera, the pack healer.

"Alpha, Luna Jocelyn missed her checkup today," her tone was strictly anxious. "If you can reach her, bring her back immediately. With her current emotional and physical state, if we don't intervene, she'll miscarry."

Deathly silence consumed the office.

Alistair froze for a split second. But immediately, the shock in his eyes morphed into bone-chilling apathy.

"How much did she pay you for this act? We've been together for five years with no child, and suddenly she's pregnant?"

He hung up without hesitation and aggressively typed a text to my number:

[Whatever bastard child you're carrying, don't think you can use it to make me bow down. If you don't come back to apologize to Sylvie right now, I'm burning your tattoo parlor to the ground tomorrow.]

He shoved the phone into his pocket.

I lay silently in the despair of the morgue. He would never know that threat was sent to a corpse.

"Alistair..."

Sylvie appeared at the office door. Her eyes were red, and distinct red handprints marred her pale cheek.

Alistair's fury vanished. He rushed over, tenderly cupping her face. "Who did this?" His voice was murderous.

"I... I ran into Jocelyn downstairs." Sylvie shrank into his chest, tears pouring down. "I nicely wished her a happy reopening, but she slapped me in front of everyone and threw this in my face—said she's cutting all ties with you."

She opened her palm. A necklace.

Alistair's face turned livid, veins bulging at his temples. "She's dead!"

"You're lying, Sylvie."

Eamon stepped forward, snatching the necklace from her hand. He stared coldly at the moonstone pendant. "This is her mother's relic. She never took it off, not even to shower. Why would she just throw it at you?"

Sylvie shrank back in feigned terror, burrowing deeper into Alistair's arms.

Despite the glaring flaw in her story, Alistair refused to believe it. He firmly believed I was the villain behind this theatrical stunt.

He snatched the necklace back, projecting all his humiliation onto me. "She's acting! She thinks tossing a necklace will make me grovel!"

Completely losing his reason, he pulled out his phone and dialed my number furiously. "Let's see how long she's going to play dead!"

To my absolute shock—the call connected.

"Jocelyn Vey! Are you done playing around?! Get back here right now—" he roared into the receiver.

But the voice on the other end wasn't mine.

It was Darius. His tone was heavy, laced with quiet terror.

"Alpha... we found this phone in the abandoned cabin... at the old lumberyard."