Chapter 3. Only Treasure

Lilly’s POV

“Oh, heavens, Beta Zackary!” Angelica’s voice filled the kitchen. “Get away from that filthy girl before she ruins your clothes and reputation. What will the pack say when they see you—a person of high status—treating a lowly, wolfless omega? She doesn’t deserve your kindness!”

Zackary’s expression hardened, anger and defiance flickering across his face.

“Yeah,” Sade added, crossing her arms. “Look at her. There’s no need to help this piece of trash. She’s more than capable of looking after her dirty, clumsy self!”

Zackary clenched his fists, tension thickening the air. He suddenly stilled, set the towel on the counter, and balled his hands into fists, anger coloring his features.

He was furious.

He slowly stepped away from me—probably afraid he would scare me—then turned to face Angelica and Sade.

“That is enough!” he snarled, expanding his aura and silencing the two women.

They whimpered and quivered in fear, unwillingly lowering their heads, submitting to his higher power.

I knit my eyebrows in confusion.

Why wasn’t I affected by his powerful aura?

Why didn’t I feel afraid of his temper?

Why was I shielded from his wrath?

I peeked from under my eyelashes, watching as his eyes grew even colder. He wasn’t done with them yet.

Why was he defending me? He didn’t owe me anything. He didn’t even know me.

Or did he…?

A sudden spark of hope rippled through me. Maybe Beta Zackary knew who I was.

Could he tell me about my past?

I took the opportunity to study him. He was tall and handsome, standing around 6’3” with dark, curly hair, golden brown skin, and a straight nose.

His muscles flexed beneath his royal uniform. He looked fit, strong, powerful—everything a Beta should be. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice he was much younger than I expected a Beta to be.

“Did I say anything to offend you, Beta Zackary?” Angelica stammered, unable to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know who you are, or your rank or position,” Zackary growled, his eyes flickering between black and blue. His voice was low and menacing, brimming with an intensity that sent shivers down Angelica’s spine. “But this is no way to treat a werewolf! It’s against the law!”

“W-what—” Angelica stuttered, unprepared for the wrath Zackary was about to unleash.

Zackary growled again.

“W-we didn’t know,” Sade quickly added, trying to defend her mother.

Zackary closed his eyes, fighting to control his wolf before things escalated any further.

“Leave us,” he ordered coldly, gesturing for the warriors to escort the women out.

I watched Zackary take a deep breath, clearly struggling. He sighed, then slowly turned back to me.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

I shook my head.

He smiled gently and moved closer, picking up the towel and carefully cleaning the blood from the side of my face.

I couldn’t believe a stranger of such high rank actually cared.

Zackary’s hands were skillful and gentle—he tried his best not to hurt me.

I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his cold blue eyes; it felt as if he could see right through me. Yet his gentle, warm touch was such a contrast to his cold exterior.

For a moment, I felt like a person; his concern felt almost real.

“Get your head out of the clouds and back to reality, Lilly!” I scolded myself internally. “This is too good to be true! It must be some kind of trick… Beta Zackary must want something from me.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Zackary asked as he finished patching up my last wound.

My gaze met his.

“I’m all done,” he said, removing his gloves. “Your wolf should be able to heal the wounds rather quickly…”

“I don’t have a wolf,” I muttered, embarrassed. “But I am very grateful for your help, Beta Zackary.”

“Call me Zack,” he said.

I nodded and smiled faintly.

“Thank you, Beta Zack, for helping me,” I whispered.

Zack’s brow furrowed, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but I quickly slid off the barstool, grabbed a wet towel, and hurried to clean the bloody mess.

I needed to scrub the blood from the floor before it stained the white Italian tiles—Angelica would love that.

I squatted, lost my balance, and cried out in pain as I tried to steady myself on my injured hand.

Zack was at my side in a blink, concern filling his blue eyes as he steadied me.

“Are you alright?” he asked, helping me off my injured hand.

“I… I’m fine,” I stammered.

“You’re a bad liar,” he said, watching as my face turned crimson.

“Let me,” he insisted.

“No need. I can do it myself,” I protested, trying to maneuver myself back onto my knees, but pain contorted my face.

He shook his head in disapproval and held out his hand.

“It’ll go quicker if I do it,” he said. “Your hand is too severely cut.”

I froze as Zack gently took the towel from me and started cleaning the blood from the floor.

Fear surged through me—if Angelica saw Zack helping me clean up, she’d surely beat me for it.

“That’s better,” Zack said, smiling as he straightened and extended his hand to me.

I hesitated, glancing from his hand to his face. His eyes were warm and gentle—he seemed genuinely happy to help.

I carefully placed my hand in his, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I think I can take it from here.”

I took the bloody towel from him, picked up the dustpan, and made my way to the dustbin. I emptied the contents and put the dustpan away.

Zack’s gaze followed me, watching my every move.

A low growl suddenly escaped his lips, and I turned to look at him.

Before I could ask what was wrong, he grabbed my arm and turned my wrist.

“What is this?” he snarled, his eyes shifting between black and blue. His wolf seemed displeased, but with what?

My heart pounded as I glanced down at what Zack was pointing at.

A too-small bangle—my only treasure—glittered in the sunlight on my left wrist.

Angelica gave me the bangle when I was a child. She said it was something my parents left for me before they died.

“It was a gift,” I whispered, watching him closely.

Zack didn’t look convinced. He brought my arm closer to inspect the bangle.

“From whom?” he growled, finally releasing my arm.

“The madam of the house, Angelica,” I replied.

Zack roared in anger.

A moment later, the two warriors rushed in.

“Watch them,” Zack ordered, then strode past them, down the hallway, and out the front door.

I stood there in pure bewilderment—what the hell just happened?