That evening, a dozen Alphas were standing outside my hospital room.

They had all come as soon as they heard the news. The awakening of a Moon-Descendant was a massive event in the werewolf world. No pure-blooded Moon-Descendant had been seen in North America for over fifty years.

"Miss Parker, the Nightfall Clan sends its regards," an elegant elderly woman said. "I am Margaret Blackwood, the Matriarch. If you require any protection—"

"The Silver Frost Clan also offers you sanctuary," a blond man added, his pheromones a cool scent of mint. "I am Cole Hawkins, the heir to the Silver Frost."

I looked at these Alphas—their eyes held respect, curiosity, and... greed.

The Moon-Descendant bloodline was too rare. My blood could heal diseases, enhance abilities, and break pheromonal control.

I was a walking treasure.

"Thank you all for your kind offers," I said politely. "But right now, I just need to rest. When I am ready, I will reach out through official channels."

Most of the Alphas took the hint and left.

But the Silver Frost heir, Cole, stayed behind.

"I mean you no harm," he said, his blue eyes filled with sincerity. "I just wanted to advise you—leaving New York is a wise choice. The Phantom Wolves have heard about your awakening, and they have... unsavory ideas about your bloodline."

"You mean Leah Summers?"

"Not just her. The entire Summers family," Cole lowered his voice. "Moon-Descendant blood can neutralize the Phantom Wolves' pheromonal manipulation. To them, your very existence is a threat."

"And you?" I stared at him. "What does the Silver Frost Clan want from me?"

Cole smiled, a genuine, open smile.

"Nothing. My father sent me to tell you that if you need an ally, the Silver Frost Clan is willing to help. With no strings attached. Simply because... we believe the Moon-Descendant bloodline should be protected, not exploited."

He handed me a business card. "This is my personal number. If you run into any trouble in Paris, call me anytime. We have significant influence in Europe."

With that, he turned and left.

I looked at the card, lost in thought.

Emma waited until he was gone before speaking. "Chloe, I think he genuinely wants to help. And... my God, he's handsome."

"Emma."

"I'm just saying!" she said, holding up her hands. "And the way he looked at you... it was different. Not like he wanted to possess you, but with... admiration? Respect?"

I didn't answer.

But I had felt the difference between Cole and Aiden, too.

Aiden's gaze always held a mix of protection and control—he wanted to hide me away, keep me safe, and mold me into his ideal Luna Mate.

But Cole's gaze... it was like he was looking at a priceless work of art that didn't belong to him. He admired it, but he didn't try to own it.

Maybe that was what I needed.

Someone who saw me as an individual, not an accessory.