Chapter 6: Grant Whitaker is Marrying Serena Jordan!

"Summer Jordan, do you really need to make up such lies just to upset me?" Grant Whitaker's mocking voice came through the phone, sharp and cold, piercing my chest.

"You've already succeeded in provoking me with that public stunt with Spencer at the bar. Now you're using Noah as a joke?"

"It's not a joke, Grant Whitaker!" I sobbed, pleading with him to see our son. "It's real! Noah is in the ICU at the pack hospital. Please, come and see him!"

But he remained unmoved, his voice cold as ice. "Noah is supposed to be at school, isn't he? How could anything have happened?"

Tears blurred my vision, and my voice shook uncontrollably. "I don't know... Maybe he came home today to surprise us and was attacked on the way. Or maybe it happened at school... We won't know until later. But right now, Grant Whitaker, he's dying!"

"Ridiculous!" His voice rose, filled with irritation. "Who would target a child? Summer, you're getting better at your tricks. Using my son to get my attention? Aren't you afraid this lie might come true?"

"I'm not lying!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "He's your son too! Why can't you believe me for once?"

"I have things to do. I'm hanging up," Grant said, his tone cutting. Without another word, he ended the call. The cold, empty tone of the disconnected line replaced his voice.

The phone slipped from my trembling hands, falling to the floor with a hollow thud. I felt like my soul had been ripped out of me.

Grant Whitaker didn't believe me.

My heart clenched painfully, memories flashing before me—Grant and Serena Jordan walking into the bar together, dancing intimately on the floor...

Of course, he was probably with Serena now. Why would he care about me or Noah?

I wiped away my tears and turned back to look at my son lying unconscious on the hospital bed. His pale lips moved slightly, his voice weak and incoherent. "Mama... Papa..."

It felt like my heart was being carved out, piece by piece. The pain was suffocating.

In that moment, I didn't just hate Grant Whitaker for his indifference. I hated my own helplessness.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. Your father probably won't come... But don't worry, I'll stay with you. I won't let anything happen to you."

After leaving the ICU, my hands trembled as I dialed another number. I knew I shouldn't disturb Spencer Whitaker, but I had no one else to turn to.

Unlike Grant, Spencer answered quickly. His steady voice came through the line. "Summer? What's wrong?"

Hearing his voice felt like grabbing onto a lifeline while drowning. I choked on my sobs, struggling to speak. "Spencer... no, King... I beg you, please save my son, Noah. You must have the best medical team, right? Please..."

"Don't panic," he said in his calm, commanding tone. "I'll be right there."

Those simple words, spoken with certainty, felt like a soothing balm. My frantic heart slowed, just a little.

Within half an hour, Spencer Whitaker arrived. He assessed the situation quickly, his sharp gaze taking in every detail. Then he made a call. "Get the best surgeon here immediately. Noah Whitaker has been shot with a silver bullet and needs surgery."

Tears streamed down my face as I nearly collapsed at his feet. "Thank you... Thank you, Spencer... You're my savior..."

Spencer gently pulled me up, wrapping me in a warm embrace. His scent, like fresh cedarwood, was calming, a solace in the midst of my despair.

"Don't be afraid. The child will be fine," he said softly, patting my back reassuringly.

My tears soaked his suit, but he didn't seem to mind. He simply murmured, "Let it out. Cry if you need to."

For the first time, I let go of my tightly held emotions, sobbing into his chest.

That night, I stayed at the hospital, unable to sleep. Grant never showed up, nor did he call. But Spencer stayed with me, a steady presence through the long hours.

By morning, the specialists Spencer had summoned finally arrived and began their consultations. I held my breath, clinging to hope for a miracle.

But the doctor's diagnosis was devastating. "The silver bullet has burned parts of his internal organs. The wound is dangerously close to his heart. There's nothing we can do."

The words hit me like a lightning strike. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, ice-cold and trembling.

"If we transfuse blood and provide oxygen, he might hold on for a few days, giving the family a chance to say goodbye," the doctor added gravely. "But he's RH-negative, which is rare."

Despair consumed me, tears flowing uncontrollably. And then, Spencer spoke.

"My blood type is the same," he said firmly.

I looked up at him, hope flickering in my tear-filled eyes.

"I'll donate my blood," he declared, his tone resolute. "And my King's blood carries healing powers. It might improve his condition."

The doctor hesitated, alarmed. "King, your blood is invaluable. It's not advisable—"

"Enough," Spencer cut him off sharply, his eyes cold and commanding. "Do it. Now."

I could only stare at him, overwhelmed by gratitude. "Thank you..."

The transfusion began swiftly. I clasped my hands together, praying desperately to the Moon Goddess for a miracle.

Noah's condition stabilized slightly, perhaps due to Spencer's unique blood. He was moved to the intensive care unit, but Spencer had to leave after the transfusion for other matters.

Alone, I changed into sterile clothes and entered the ICU to visit my son. His small face was pale, his voice weak as he opened his eyes. "Mama... Where's Papa?"

My heart ached, and I forced a smile, lying to him gently. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Papa will be here soon."

Disappointment clouded his frail face, and I felt an unbearable pain in my chest.

I tried calling Grant again. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time, there was no answer. Finally, his phone went straight to voicemail.

Despair washed over me again, drowning me. Just as I was about to break down, my phone rang.

I snatched it up, hoping desperately it was Grant. "Grant, you—"

"Luna, it's me, Lucy," came the voice of my longtime maid and confidante.

My heart sank. It wasn't Grant.

Lucy sounded urgent. "Luna, I just heard something. Alpha is at The Crown Hotel! They say... he's about to marry your sister, Serena Jordan. The wedding is starting soon!"

Her words struck me like a thunderbolt.