Chapter 96 Blood and Secrets
[Nyx]
Twenty-three hundred hours. My phone buzzed just as I was reviewing the evening's notes in my office.
Dr. Mitchell's name flashed on the screen.
"Tell me you found something," I said instead of hello.
"Chairman, you need to come to the lab. Now." Her voice was shaking. "I know how they solved it."
I was out of my chair and heading for the elevator before she finished the sentence. "I'll be there in five minutes."
"Bring Alexander," she added. "And... you'll want to see this alone. Before anyone else."
The private lab on the fifteenth floor was small, secure, and equipped with equipment that cost more than most people's houses. Dr. Mitchell was standing at the analysis station, her face pale in the fluorescent light.
Alexander and I entered together. I locked the door behind us.
"Show us," I said.
Dr. Mitchell pulled up a molecular analysis on the screen. "This is the original Project Lunar formula—what our team developed under Diana's direction." She highlighted several compounds in red. "These are the unstable elements. The ones that caused the irreversible shifting."
She pulled up a second screen. "This is Apex."
At first glance, they looked nearly identical. But as she zoomed in, I could see subtle differences in the molecular bonds.
"They added a stabilizing agent," Dr. Mitchell said quietly. "Something that prevents the degradation cascade we were trying to avoid. It's brilliant, actually. Elegant. It shouldn't work, but it does."
"What is it?" Alexander leaned closer.
Dr. Mitchell's hand trembled as she highlighted the compound. "Human blood plasma. Specifically, a synthesized derivative of human hemoglobin."
[Lysander]
The helicopter dropped us three kilometers from Outpost Three's ruins. Gamma Squad One moved in tactical formation through the snow-heavy forest—twelve of the pack's deadliest warriors, all answering to me.
The outpost was carnage. Walls blown apart. Silver-round casings littering scorched earth. Blood frozen in dark patches.
"Commander." Seth crouched by a shell casing, his expression grim. "Silver armor-piercing rounds. Military grade. This wasn't random—they knew exactly what ammunition to use against us."
"Three of our warriors died from silver poisoning before they could shift," Marcus added, his voice tight with anger. "The attackers had thermal weapons too. They were equipped to kill werewolves specifically."
I surveyed the destruction. Whoever did this had serious funding and inside knowledge of our weaknesses.
"Owen, check for survivors. Everyone else, track the retreat pattern."
We followed the trail two kilometers into Moonblade territory. Strange. Why would attackers flee into our lands instead of back to the coast?
Then I saw them.
Fifteen humans, huddled in a clearing. Ragged clothes. Emaciated bodies. Several unconscious on the frozen ground. These weren't trained militants—they looked like prisoners.
"Seth, perimeter. Do not engage." I raised my hand, studying them through my scope.
They were in bad shape. Pale, malnourished. And their arms—I focused sharply—covered in needle marks and bruising. Recent. Systematic.
What the hell happened to these people?
One woman collapsed, convulsing. The others tried to help but were too weak to lift her.
"Surround them. Non-lethal approach." I strode forward with Seth and Marcus flanking me.
The humans saw us and dropped to their knees immediately. An older man—maybe fifty, skeletal thin—threw his hands up in surrender. "Please! We didn't want to attack! They were going to kill us!"
I let Alpha authority flood my voice. "You attacked our outpost. Three of our warriors are dead. Give me one reason not to execute you where you kneel."
"We had no choice!" The old man's voice broke. "It was escape or die in that place. They've been draining us for months—"
"Explain. Now."
---
His story came out in desperate fragments:
Six months ago, armed men came to the exile settlements on Rebirth Isle. Rounded up anyone who looked healthy enough. Took them to an abandoned factory on the north shore.
"They call it Phoenix Lab," the old man said, his hands shaking. "They locked us in cells. Started taking our blood—not just samples, massive amounts. Every week, sometimes twice a week."
He pulled up his sleeve. His arm was covered in needle marks, bruises in various stages of healing, scarred veins.
"They said our blood was valuable. That we were contributing to 'werewolf advancement.' But people started dying—bled too much, too often. The weak ones just... collapsed and never woke up."
A younger woman spoke up, her voice hollow. "Last week, they brought in new prisoners. The facility was getting crowded. One of the guards got drunk, said they were planning to 'liquidate the weak stock' to make room."
"We knew what that meant," the old man continued. "So we planned an escape. Stole weapons from the armory—found silver rounds, thermal grenades. Killed the guards. But we knew the moment we left that island, the werewolf patrols would hunt us down."
He met my eyes, tears streaming down his face. "We attacked your outpost because we thought if we didn't strike first, you'd kill us on sight anyway. We're exiles. We have no rights. No protection. We just wanted to live."
Owen knelt beside the unconscious woman, checking her pulse. "Commander, severe anemia. Multiple puncture wounds, signs of chronic blood loss. Without immediate treatment, at least half of them won't survive the night."
Karl's order echoed in my mind: Kill on sight. No prisoners. No mercy.
But these weren't enemy combatants. They were victims who'd fought back in desperation.
I thought of what Nyx would say. There's always more to the story. Always.
"Seth, call in medical evac. Full quarantine protocols."
Seth stared at me. "Sir? The Alpha's orders were explicit—"
"I know what he ordered. But these people have intelligence on Phoenix Lab." I looked at the humans huddled in the snow. "Someone is operating an illegal facility on the exile islands, harvesting human blood on a massive scale. We need to know who and why."