Reject Me, My Alpha

Chapter 5

Annabel POV

When I stepped into Bruce’s office, Mrs. Ann and Jane were already there.

Mrs. Ann sat in one of the chairs near the corner of the room. Jane sat beside Mrs. Ann, her arm covered in bandages.

Bruce sat on his chair, reading a paper. When I stepped closer, he looked up.

I stopped in front of his desk. His face was hard.

I glanced at Jane. Her eyes met mine for a moment before she looked away.

Bruce placed the paper on the desk.

“The doctor’s report confirms that Jane was attacked.”

I looked at him.

“Confirmed?”

He nodded.

“The bruises and injuries are consistent with what she described.”

“That doesn’t prove I did it.”

His eyes hardened.

“You were the only person she accused.”

“I was also sitting at the dinner table when she came in.”

“So you expect me to believe she attacked herself?”

“That is not what I’m saying.” I kept my voice steady, even though my hands felt cold. “I’m asking you to investigate what happened before blaming me.”

“I was there when she walked into the dining hall. You know that.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair.

“Is that what you want me to investigate?”

“Yes.”

A short silence followed.

“Check the security cameras,” I continued. “Check who entered the hallway. Speak to the people who were there. Look at the full medical report.”

“I already have.”

I stared at him.

“No. You looked at Jane’s injuries. That is not the same as investigating what happened.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

I thought he might actually listen.

Then his expression changed.

“You always have an excuse.”

Something inside me sank.

“I’m not asking you to believe me without proof,” I said quietly. “I’m asking you to find out what really happened.”

Before he could answer, Jane suddenly bent forward and held her stomach.

Bruce noticed it.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Her voice trembled.

“The doctor said my condition will get worse if nothing is done soon.”

I frowned.

“What condition?”

Bruce said nothing.

Mrs. Ann answered instead.

“Jane’s kidney is failing.”

I stared at her.

“What does that have to do with me?”

Jane lowered her eyes.

“The doctor said I need a transplant.”

I looked at Bruce.

“And?”

His gaze stayed on me.

“They found a compatible donor.”

Something inside me went still.

I already knew where this was going.

“No.”

Bruce’s expression tightened.

“You haven’t heard me yet.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You’re the match.”

The words took a few seconds to sink in.

I stared at him.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The blood test showed that you are compatible.”

The doctor’s words from earlier came back to me.

We need another sample.

My stomach turned.

“When was this test done?”

“Today.”

“Without telling me why?”

Bruce did not answer.

I looked at Mrs. Ann.

She did not look surprised.

That frightened me more than her silence.

“You already knew.”

Mrs. Ann crossed her arms.

“We knew Jane needed help.”

“You knew I was being tested because of this?”

“It was a medical examination.”

“No.”

My voice became firmer.

“You tested me because you wanted to know if I could donate.”

Bruce stood.

“You are the only compatible match they found.”

“Being her match does not mean I have to give her my kidney.”

“My baby could die if I don’t get help.”

I looked at Jane.

Her hand rested over her stomach.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

“Then help me.”

“I never said I wouldn’t help.”

Jane stared at me.

“But you are refusing to save my child.”

“I’m refusing to give you an organ without knowing what is really happening.”

Bruce’s face turned cold.

“What truth do you want to know?”

I looked at him.

“Why was I tested without being told what the test was for?”

No one answered.

I took a breath.

“And why did your mother already know the result?”

Mrs. Ann’s expression changed.

Bruce noticed.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

That silence made my suspicion grow stronger.

“You’re making this more difficult than it should be.”

He finally broke the silence.

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You are the one making this difficult.”

I glanced at the papers on his desk.

“You said Jane needs a kidney. You said I’m the match. But nobody has shown me the complete medical report.”

Bruce stared at me.

“Do you really understand what is at stake?”

“Of course I do.”

I looked at Jane.

“I understand that she is sick.”

Then I looked back at Bruce.

“But my body is not something you can simply take because someone needs it.”

The room went quiet.

Bruce watched me for several seconds.

Then he spoke.

“Think carefully before you refuse.”

My fingers curled at my sides.

“Is that a threat?”

“No.”

“But the way you said it did not make me feel safe.”

“I’m asking you to do your duty as my Luna.”

I stared at him.

“My duty?”

“Yes.”

“You’re asking me to donate my kidney because I’m your Luna?”

His expression remained hard.

“You are part of this family.”

I swallowed.

“So being part of this family means I owe you my kidney?”

He did not answer.

I waited.

Still nothing.

His silence told me enough.

I looked at Jane again.

She was quiet, one hand still resting over her stomach.

The accusation had come first.

Then the blood test.

Now I was suddenly the only person who could supposedly save her.

Everything was happening too fast.

I couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was wrong.

Maybe the attack and the blood test were connected.

Maybe Jane had planned more than I understood.

But I had no proof.

I only had questions.

And one question mattered more than the others.

Why had they needed my blood in the first place?

I thought about the doctor’s strange behavior earlier.

He had taken my first blood sample.

Then he had asked for another.

He had refused to tell me what he had found.

Now I was being told that I was a match for Jane’s kidney donor.

I looked at Bruce.

“I want another test.”

His eyebrows drew together.

“Another test?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re really compatible with Jane, the result shouldn’t change.”

“I want the test repeated. And this time, I want the result shown to me.”

Bruce said nothing.

“I want to see it myself before anyone asks me to make a decision.”

His jaw tightened.

For a moment, I thought he would refuse.

But he gave a short nod.

“Fine.”

I did not relax.

“Do it now.”

His eyes stayed on me.

Then he turned toward the door.

“Take her to the medical wing.”

A few minutes later, I was sitting in a medical room I had never been in before.

A nurse stood beside me with a small tray.

A needle lay beside a piece of cotton, a strip of tape, and a clear vial.

She tied a band around my upper arm.

The rubber pressed tightly against my skin.

She cleaned the inside of my elbow with cold cotton.

Then she pushed the needle into my arm.

I flinched.

She filled the vial before pulling the needle out.

“This might bruise,” she said.

She pressed the cotton against the small hole.

“You bruise easily?”

“I don’t know.”

That was the truth.

Nobody in this house had ever cared enough to notice that.

The nurse checked the vial’s label and placed it inside a small cooler bag.

“Hold this here for a few minutes.”

I pressed the cotton against my arm.

The nurse left the room.

I remained there, staring at the door.

My arm throbbed faintly beneath the cotton.

After a few minutes, I went to the waiting room and sat near the wall.

The cotton was held against my skin with tape, but it kept pulling whenever I bent my elbow.

I looked down.

A small spot of blood had soaked through the cotton.

I pressed it harder against my arm.

I waited.

I didn’t know how long it would take.

Eventually, someone came and told me to return to my room.

By the time I reached my room, it was already dark.

I closed the door behind me.

I crossed the room and turned on the lamp beside my bed.

Then I rolled my sleeve above my elbow.

I looked at the spot where the needle had gone into my skin.

I expected to see a small wound.

Nothing was there.

I frowned.

I brought my arm closer to the light.

Still nothing.

No bruise.

No dark spot.

Not even a faint mark.

My skin was completely smooth.

I touched the spot with my finger.

Nothing.

I pressed my thumb against it.

Still I felt nothing.

My breath caught.

That was impossible.

A few hours ago, a needle had gone through this skin.

I had felt it.

I had watched the nurse pull it out.

There had even been blood on the cotton.

But now...

Nothing.

I turned my arm under the light.

I searched the skin again.

Nothing.

I pressed the spot harder.

Still no pain.

I stared at my arm.

For the first time, a thought entered my mind that I did not want to believe.

Maybe there was something about me that I had never understood.

And suddenly, the questions about the blood test were no longer the only questions I had.

Why had the needle left no mark?

Why had my body healed so quickly?

And what else had I been wrong about all these years?

I slowly lowered my arm.

I looked toward the door.

No one could know what I had noticed.

Not yet.

And I needed to understand what was happening to me before I could tell anyone.

I rolled my sleeve back down.

But the questions stayed with me.

And for the first time, I realized that whatever was happening inside this house might not be the only secret I needed to uncover.