Kai's POV
I listened to the girl's explanation. I didn't understand the mystical or medical details, the talk of parasites and essence.
It sounded like something out of an ancient, forgotten legend, the kind of story elders told pups to scare them.
But there was one thing I understood perfectly in that moment: authority.
This young woman, who couldn't be much older than twenty, spoke with the same absolute, unshakable confidence I used when I commanded my pack, when I took over a rival company. It wasn't arrogance.
It was certainty. It was the tone of someone who knew, without a single, solitary shadow of a doubt, that they were right and everyone else in the room was wrong.
I looked at Dr. Albright. He was stammering now, his face pale, trying to find a flaw in her logic, a hole in her theory.
He was flipping through the digital chart on a nearby tablet, his hands shaking, but he was coming up with nothing. He looked like a fool.
A dangerous fool who had just declared my grandfather dead based on a complete misunderstanding of the situation.
I saw a flicker of fear and dawning recognition in the eyes of the other doctors and nurses. They were afraid of me, yes, but they were also starting to realize she was right.
Their own science had failed, and she was offering an explanation—no matter how insane—that fit the facts.
My Alpha instincts were screaming at me, a roaring inferno in my gut.
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