Chapter 1 The Cold Diagnosis

The family ritual hall reeked of incense, thick with a tension you could almost touch. For every werewolf family in the region, the annual bloodline test was do-or-die—it decided who got the inheritance, who kept their status, no exceptions.

I stood next to my husband, Lucas Bloodclaw, acutely aware of how tense his muscles were under his formal attire.

Lucas was the Bloodclaw family’s most outstanding Alpha of his generation—handsome, strong, stuck carrying the weight of generations of expectations on his broad shoulders.

And me? Isabella, his wife. My whole future in this fancy family depended on today’s results.

The elders sat in a circle around the ancient testing stone, their faces as hard as granite. The old physician leading the ceremony set his weathered hand on the stone. Strange symbols lit up, and a beam of light wrapped around me, tight as a blanket.

Minutes dragged by, and the physician’s frown got deeper. I watched Lucas’s face shift—from confident to antsy, then straight-up worried.

Finally, the physician pulled his hand back. The light faded. He opened his eyes, glanced from Lucas to me, then locked onto Lucas’s mom—the real boss of the family—sitting at the head of the group. Slow, deliberate, he shook his head.

“I regret to say,” his voice was dry but loud enough to fill the hall, “Lady Isabella’s bloodline… it’s ‘inert.’ Energy markers are rock bottom. By the old laws… she’s almost definitely incapable of having Alpha kids.”

A ringing sound filled my ears exploded in my head. My mind went blank.

Can’t have kids?

How? I’d always been healthy!

“What did you say?!” Lucas stepped forward, his voice rising—shocked, angry—his handsome face twisted with disbelief. “Say that again!”

The physician bowed his head. “Mr. Bloodclaw, the results don’t lie. Lady Isabella’s bloodline can’t hold or pass on the Bloodclaw essence. She… isn’t fit to be your mate. She can’t give the family a real heir.”

“Worthless!” The word cut through the silence like a knife. Lucas’s mom—always decked out in designer clothes, hair perfect—stared at me like I was rotten trash. She pointed at me, sharp as a nail. “I told everyone! An orphan with no known lineage? How could she ever match our noble blood? Now we have proof! She’s damaged goods! Our line won’t end with you!”

The family started murmuring. The ones who’d smiled at me that morning now traded looks—pity, glee, and worst of all, plain disgust.

Lucas turned to me. Those green eyes that used to be warm, that used to look at me like I mattered—now they were cold, disappointed, like I’d betrayed him. It hurt worse than any cut.

“Isabella…” His voice sounded tight, like he was choking. “You… you actually…”

I wanted to explain. I wanted to yell that something was wrong, that I loved him… but every word died in my throat. His eyes were so cold, so sure I was to blame.

In that second, I got it—hit me like a fist to the chest.

In this family, I only mattered if I could have kids. Once they decided I couldn’t? All the love, all the things I’d done for Lucas—everything I was—turned to dust.

To them, I was just a barren failure. Unwanted.