Pack’s Omega Doctor Luna

Chapter 3: Ripples of Scandal

Chapter 3: Ripples of Scandal

(Elara's POV)

My heart nearly stopped when I read the message again: "Little omega, your underwear is in my car."

There was only one person who could have sent this. The Alpha King himself, Lucian Blackwood. My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling slightly. How had he gotten my number?

I typed back quickly, keeping my response terse: "Dispose of it. I don't need it back."

Hitting send felt like throwing a stone into still water—small action, significant consequences. I couldn't afford to play whatever game he was starting. Last night was a mistake, a result of wolfsbane and circumstances I couldn't control.

After sending the message, I switched to my banking app. My weekly paycheck had cleared—not much, but enough to transfer some to my mother's account. I input the amount and confirmed the transaction, watching the numbers decrease in my own balance.

Five years of this. Five years since my father vanished after a failed alliance negotiation with neighboring packs. He'd disappeared, but the debts he'd accumulated hadn't. Those debts had fallen to my mother and me—overwhelming amounts owed to packs who showed no mercy to an omega and her mother.

I'd taken the first job offered, then another, and another. Now as a medical researcher at Silver Creek Hospital, I made enough to keep the creditors at bay, but not much more. Every extra penny went to my mother, trying to give her some semblance of comfort after everything she'd endured.

I silenced my phone and set it aside. Tomorrow would be difficult enough without further messages from the Alpha.

---

The morning light filtered through my curtains far too soon. My body ached, reminding me of last night's activities. I showered quickly and dressed in my most professional outfit—a gray pencil skirt and crisp white blouse. Armor, in its own way.

Silver Creek Hospital loomed ahead as I pulled into the parking lot. The seven-story building was the crown jewel of the Midnight Howlers' territory—a state-of-the-art medical facility that served both pack members and the human community of Silverwood. Most importantly to me, it housed one of the most advanced medical research departments in the region.

And Lucian owned it all.

The thought of potentially running into him made my stomach clench, but I straightened my spine and walked through the automatic doors with practiced confidence.

Something was off immediately. The two receptionists at the front desk glanced up as I entered, then quickly looked away, whispering behind their hands. I kept walking, maintaining my pace as their eyes followed me to the elevator.

More stares greeted me on the research floor. Colleagues who normally nodded in greeting suddenly found their computer screens fascinating. Others tracked my movement with barely concealed interest.

By the time I reached my office, my nerves were stretched thin. Sarah Mitchell, my beta co-worker, was waiting by my door, clutching her tablet with white knuckles.

"Good morning, Sarah," I said, unlocking my office.

"Um, Elara..." Her voice wavered as she followed me inside. "There's something you should see."

I set my bag down and turned to her, noting the flush on her cheeks. "What is it?"

She bit her lip, hesitating. "Photos are circulating... through the office messaging system."

My blood turned to ice. "Photos?"

Sarah handed me her tablet with trembling fingers. "I'm so sorry."

I took it, knowing what I would find before I even looked down. There, on the screen, was a grainy but unmistakable image of a woman—me—locked in an intimate embrace with a man inside a car. Lucian's face was thankfully in shadow, but there was no mistaking my profile, illuminated by a nearby streetlight.

"Who sent these?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

"They're anonymous," Sarah whispered. "Everyone's talking... Mr. Harrison wants to see you immediately."

Mr. Harrison—my research supervisor and a beta wolf known for his rigid adherence to professional standards. This was exactly what I'd feared.

I scrolled through the photos, each one more compromising than the last. My breath caught in my throat, but I refused to show panic. Five years of surviving pack politics had taught me one crucial lesson: never let them see you bleed.

"Elara?" Sarah's voice pulled me back to the present. "Are you okay?"

I handed her back the tablet, my expression carefully neutral. "Schedule the pack territory report meeting in ten minutes. Conference room three."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "The meeting? But... Mr. Harrison..."

"He can wait until after the meeting," I said firmly. "The Northern Ridge samples can't."

"How can you be so calm?" Sarah muttered, clearly not intending for me to hear.

The irony wasn't lost on me. The photos showed me at my most vulnerable, most passionate. Yet here I was, compartmentalizing as if organizing research files. But that was the paradox of my existence—wildness locked beneath a carefully controlled exterior.

After Sarah left, I allowed myself exactly thirty seconds of panic. My hands shook as I gripped the edge of my desk. Someone had photographed my encounter with Lucian. Someone had distributed those photos throughout the workplace.

I knew what they would be saying: The omega researcher is sleeping her way to the top. Just like all omegas, ruled by their primal instincts.

My thirty seconds ended. I straightened my blouse, smoothed my skirt, and gathered the documents needed for the meeting. The Northern Ridge territory samples were showing unprecedented results—potentially groundbreaking for our understanding of wolf biology in varying terrains.

I wouldn't let a scandal derail my work. I couldn't afford to.

The conference room fell silent as I entered. Eight pairs of eyes watched me place my materials on the table, silent judgments hanging in the air.

"Good morning," I said, as if this were any other day. "Let's begin with the findings from the Northern Ridge samples."

For the next forty-five minutes, I led the meeting with clinical precision. I answered questions, presented data, and assigned follow-up tasks as if there weren't explicit photos of me circulating through the building.

By the end, I could see the grudging respect in some of my colleagues' eyes. Whatever they thought of my personal life, my professionalism was unassailable.

As the meeting concluded, Dr. Campbell, one of the senior researchers, lingered behind.

"That was impressive," he said quietly. "Not many could conduct business as usual under these circumstances."

I gathered my papers. "The research doesn't care about gossip, Dr. Campbell. Neither do I."

He nodded, a glint of something like admiration in his eyes. "Harrison's waiting. Good luck."

Whispers followed me down the hallway to Mr. Harrison's office. I kept my gaze forward, my steps measured. Let them talk. It wouldn't be the first time an omega was the subject of pack gossip, nor would it be the last.

I paused outside Harrison's door, my hand raised to knock, when I heard Lucian's voice from inside.

"I must say, I'm curious about this new medical research project," came his deep, amused voice. "Especially since its lead researcher seems to have had quite the scandalous encounter recently."

My breath caught in my throat. Lucian was in there. Discussing me. Discussing the photos.

I stood frozen, my knuckles hovering inches from the door, as the Alpha King of the Midnight Howlers pack spoke about our encounter with barely concealed amusement.