Lev shook his head. "They listed me as a recessive Omega," he replied, his tone neutral.
Clyde's eyes narrowed. "Through which family in the High Council did Ryder send you?" he asked, his voice probing.
Lev hesitated before answering. "The Ashbourne family," he admitted finally, his eyes meeting Clyde's. "Ryder used his connections there to get me into the match."
The Alpha barely had time to register Lev's explanation when a cold, slick sensation brushed across his wound. Instinct kicked in—Clyde snapped around, seizing Lev's wrist with a swift, unrelenting grip.
His sharp blue eyes darkened, fixating on the shimmering gel smeared across his skin. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the faint, familiar scent of the ointment.
"Where did you get this medicine?" Clyde's voice was low, edged with suspicion, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "This isn't something you can just stumble upon."