Chapter 117 The Old Bloodlines (3)

“How does someone from a family of true-blood werewolves end up with a human mate? If your society is so concerned about bloodlines and power, wouldn’t the families prefer their children to marry other true bloods?”

“They do prefer it,” Derrick admitted. “Many families arrange introductions between their children and potential mates from other influential bloodlines. They believe it preserves the strength of their families and helps maintain alliances between packs. But a werewolf cannot always dictate whom they will imprint on. And even when a mate is chosen by the individual rather than through an established bond, affection doesn’t always follow the rules of family politics.”

Zoey nodded slowly. “Okay, so the hierarchy isn’t just about who can beat whom in a fight. It’s about family, ancestry, political influence, and who you’re allowed to marry.”

“That’s a reasonable understanding of it.” Derrick nodded.

“And the Omegas are the ones who suffer the most because they don’t have any of those advantages.”

Derrick nodded. “Often, yes. Although some have managed to rise above their circumstances.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “But wait…So… if a regular human gets bitten and turned into a werewolf, where do they even fit in?”

“Naturally, you remain bound to the Alpha who bit you,” Derrick said. “If you prove your loyalty, earn your keep, and show tactical competence, you might eventually rise through the ranks to become a Beta. There are records of half-bloods becoming Betas and Gammas, though such cases remain relatively uncommon. But no half-blood has ever been recognised as an Alpha in the traditional sense. Even today, true mobility is heavily restricted. Modern Betas are almost exclusively chosen from established, powerful families. Look at Oliver, for instance. He comes from a centuries-old bloodline of Betas—it is an inherited station of duty.”

Zoey gave him a thoughtful look. “Wait a minute. Did you just say Beta and Gamma?”

“Yes.”

“As in, those are actual positions in the hierarchy?”

“They are.”

She stopped walking. Derrick took two more steps before noticing and turning back towards her. Zoey stared at him speechless.

“Wait a minute,” Zoey gasped, stopping in her tracks. “You’re telling me there are literal dynasties of Betas?”

“Indeed, There are established families associated with those positions. It helps maintain continuity within the pack.” Derrick confirmed with a calm nod.

“Any Alpha heir preparing to inherit leadership from his father will traditionally select a Beta whose family has served that alpha line for generations, particularly when the family has demonstrated loyalty across generations. The same principle applies to other positions, although the exact arrangements although the exact arrangements differ from pack to pack. Take your friend Iris’s ex-boyfriend, Jason Montgomery, for example. When Jason eventually assumes leadership of the Montgomery pack from his father Gerald, his appointed Beta will be his lifelong friend, Shawn Matthew, whose family line has managed the Montgomery tactical units for over a century. And his Gamma will be their other associate, Finn Callahan.”

Zoey stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. She felt like she was uncovering layers of a massive, terrifying corporate conspiracy disguised as a monster movie. “Please tell me there isn’t a dynastic family of Gammas, too. Tell me you’re joking.”

Seeing the deadpan look in Derrick’s eyes, all the color drained slightly from her face. “No. You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s a family of Gammas?!” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “No fucking way.”

Derrick shrugged, his expression almost apologetic. “It creates administrative stability within large packs, Miss Brooks. It ensures loyalty is institutionalized rather than improvised. It also explains why Omegas struggle so desperately to break through the glass ceiling—though there are rare, isolated historical records of exceptional half-bloods rising to Beta or Gamma ranks, an Omega sitting upon an Alpha throne has never happened.”

Zoey stared at him for another second before resuming her walk. “This is unbelievable. You people have turned being a werewolf into an entire political institution.”

“Would you prefer chaos?”

“I would prefer people to stop inheriting jobs before they’ve even been born.”

“That would certainly make things more interesting.”

“Interesting? Derrick, if I discovered that my family had a centuries-old tradition of being someone else’s assistant, I’d change my surname and move to another continent. This issue of family beta’s and Gamma’s, is the most depressing corporate structure I have ever heard of,” Zoey muttered, shaking her head. “It’s like feudalism with fangs.”

“Precisely,” Derrick agreed smoothly. “Though to be entirely accurate regarding bloodlines: if a bitten werewolf has children, those children are half-bloods. But what happens if a true blood male like myself takes a human mate and conceives a child?”

Zoey blinked, trying to follow the convoluted genealogy. “Um… based on what you just said… a half-blood?”

“Incorrect,” Derrick smiled, clearly enjoying the pop quiz. “Because my genetic baseline is true blood, any child I father—regardless of whether my mate is human or supernatural—will inherit the true blood status. The dominant strain of our lineage overrides the dilution.”

“My brain hurts,” Zoey groaned, rubbing her temples. “Supernatural genetics are way above my pay grade.”

Derrick let out a low laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. “You are adjusting remarkably well, considering forty-eight hours ago you believed your biggest crisis was a missing parking permit.”

“Let’s not overstate my mental stability,” Zoey dryly retorted.

“Then I imagine you would have been disappointed to learn that Oliver comes from a family of Betas.”

Zoey stopped so abruptly that Derrick nearly walked into her. She slowly turned her head to look at him.

“Oliver?”

“Yes. His family has served in Beta positions for generations. He’s exceptionally capable in his own right, of course, but his background also makes him a natural fit for the role he occupies.”

“Wait. So Oliver is a Beta?”

“Among other responsibilities, yes.”

“And here I thought he was just Alexander’s extremely well-dressed assistant.”

Derrick’s mouth twitched. “Oliver would probably object to being described that way.”

“I’m sure he would. He has the face of a man who corrects people’s grammar in his head.”

“That is remarkably accurate.”

Zoey burst out laughing, and Derrick joined her.

“Well,” Zoey said once her laughter subsided, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye as they resumed walking toward the conservatory. “I suppose that explains a lot about how your little corporate empire functions. It’s not just a billionaire tech firm; it’s an ancient paramilitary syndicate wearing a nice suit.”

“A harsh assessment, Miss Brooks, but not entirely inaccurate,” Derrick replied smoothly, his stride lengthening slightly as the glass structure of the conservatory came into view through the manicured hedges.

Then suddenly, Zoey had a thoughtful look on her face and she paused, a sudden thought cutting through her sarcastic haze as she remembered a conversation she had shared with Iris the previous night.

“Actually, Derrick… Iris mentioned something to me when she came to my room last night. She said you told her Vanessa might be a witch.”

Derrick’s jovial expression instantly evaporated. The aristocratic mask slipped back into place, his dark eyes sharpening as he looked down at her. “Ah. Miss Vanessa Chase.”

“Yes, her,” Zoey pressed, her voice dropping into a serious register. “Iris said according to the background check Alexander apparently ordered the moment he marked Iris, Vanessa’s family traces back to the shadow world. Is that true?”

“It is entirely true,” Derrick confirmed, his tone turning measured. “When the intelligence network mapped out everyone within Iris’s immediate orbit, our analysts flagged the Chase family lineage. In our terminology, we refer to the hidden supernatural community as the shadow world—an apt descriptor for a society that functions entirely beneath the notice of human law enforcement.”

Zoey clenched her fists inside the pockets of her jeans. This was the exact piece of the puzzle she had been desperate to uncover. “Which means she knew, right? All this time we were all best friends, while Jason was stringing Iris along… Vanessa knew he was a werewolf?”

Derrick looked at her carefully, his expression unreadable. “I cannot speak with absolute certainty regarding what was inside Miss Chase’s head during your college semesters, Miss Brooks. However, based on the documented paper trail of her recent actions… her behavior strongly suggests she was intimately aware of what Mr. Montgomery was.”

Zoey’s breath hitched. “What do you mean by paper trail? What has she been doing?”

Derrick slowed his steps as they approached the base of the grand staircase, where the wide corridor opened into a sunlit atrium. “It appears that several weeks ago, during…maybe an altercation, Jason Montgomery inadvertently marked Miss Chase.”

Zoey stopped dead on the bottom stair, her jaw dropping. “Marked her? Like… the actual mating mark Alexander stamped onto Iris’s neck?”

“Not of the same magnitude, of course, because Alexander is an Ultimate Alpha,” Derrick explained, keeping his voice quiet and confidential. “An accidental or stressed mark delivered by an ordinary Alpha heir carries a fraction of that primordial weight. But a mark is a mark in the eyes of supernatural law. Jason never intended to claim her—in truth, Miss Chase is not his fated mate, and the bond is entirely artificial. But once a physical mark is established upon skin, it becomes a permanent legal and biological tether within our society.”