Scarlett's POV
The corridor was empty, the lighting much dimmer than in the ballroom.
I stopped beside a classical column, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes, letting my spine press against the cold stone as that bone-deep chill seeped through my back and penetrated my entire body.
I had not been defeated.
This chess game had only just begun—I was far from defeated.
I needed to think calmly about one issue, a crucial question I had suppressed for three years and never wanted to face.
My inability to conceive was not a natural defect.
Two years ago, after a routine examination, the attending physician secretly approached me, quietly slipping the test results into my hands.
He told me that my hormone levels were extremely abnormal, symptoms indicating long-term interference from some special herb.
At the time, I took that report to Alexander.
He was silent for a long time, finally saying dismissively: It might be a stress response from high-intensity training. Let's observe for a while longer.
And then nothing more came of it.
No thorough investigation, no comprehensive inquiry, no one held accountable.
At the time, I naively thought he was protecting me, not wanting me to endure the enormous pressure that an investigation would bring.
Now I finally understood the truth. He simply didn't want to investigate. Because from the beginning, he didn't care about the results.
He hadn't just betrayed me—he had never seen me as someone who needed to be cherished and protected.
In his heart, I was perhaps nothing more than a tool for obtaining power and status.
Anger came more swiftly than sorrow, more sobering, like a fierce fire igniting from deep within my chest, burning away all the soft emotions that still retained any warmth.
This was the pack my father had left behind, the bloodline inheritance and ancestral territory of the Winter Wolf clan.
It belonged to no outside coveter, not to a woman who had run back after being abandoned for five years, and certainly not to the unborn child in her womb.
I would never fulfill their wishful thinking.
Kara resonated with me deep in my consciousness, that powerful force belonging to Alpha bloodline beginning to awaken within my body.
I felt a long-absent desire to fight—that Winter Wolf instinct my father had passed down to me: to strike back in desperate straits, to be reborn through betrayal.
---
Father's old study was located in the deepest part of the main building, sealed for nearly two years.
I gently pushed open the heavy oak door. The mixed scent of camphor and old paper rushed toward me, carrying the weight of accumulated years.
I didn't turn on the harsh overhead lights, only twisted on that antique bronze desk lamp that had accompanied my father for years.
Warm yellow light spilled across the solid wood desk I had known since childhood.
The bottom drawer required a special key to open.
I removed the necklace I had worn close to my body, which held the only key my father had left me.
When the drawer opened, inside lay neatly arranged legal documents, important correspondence, and a thick contact book with a cover worn to a shine—all in my father's handwriting, densely packed and orderly, meticulously recording every ally relationship, every important name who had once owed the Winter Wolves a favor, every crucial piece of information he worried might be lost if he suddenly passed away.
I carefully examined each page with complex emotions.
Then tears suddenly welled up in my eyes as I saw every escape route my father had laid out for me, every possible source of aid, every painstakingly arranged plan.
He had long foreseen that I might face today's predicament, which is why he had so meticulously recorded this precious information.
Yet I had failed his expectations, allowing the Winter Wolf bloodline to fall into such a passive situation.
Plip—
A tear fell, landing like fate itself on a familiar name.
Lucien Nightshade.
Beside it was detailed notation my father had added later, the handwriting slightly smaller than the main text, clearly supplemented after careful consideration:
During the Nightshade Pack succession dispute, Lucien was at a disadvantage. I provided financial assistance in the Winter Wolf name. Later, our two families discussed the possibility of marriage alliance, but it was abandoned due to Scarlett's firm refusal.
In case of difficulties, he is the best option.
I read this precious passage three times, each word burning deeply into my memory.
Father's guidance was correct—this was absolutely the best option.
The Council never interfered in internal pack affairs, and as a woman, I had no independent military force as backing.
Father's old subordinates could only cautiously choose sides in secret, and as long as Alexander successfully stabilized the core leadership, the longer time dragged on, the fewer chips I would have in my hand, until I might have nothing at all.
The Nightshade family controlled one-third of the northern territories and wielded the greatest influence in the Council.
More importantly, Lucien himself was renowned for his iron-fisted methods and absolute fairness, never participating in political speculation, which made each of his positions carry enormous influence.
And I had little doubt... he would definitely help me, though it would require paying a price.
I took a deep breath, picked up my phone, and dialed Kathleen's number. As soon as the call connected, I got straight to the point:
"Kathleen, help me. I need to speak privately with your brother. This is urgent."