The dining hall fell silent when Isla entered.
She had chosen a high-necked dress, but the dark fabric could not conceal every bruise beneath her jaw.
Her throat still burned, leaving her voice rough and painful.
Logan walked beside her without touching her.
He remained close enough to intervene if necessary, yet respected the distance she had demanded.
Isla took the empty chair opposite Dr.
Henry.
Vespera sat at the head of the table, pale but composed.
The family healer remained beside her, while Lyra, Roland, and two relatives who had accused Isla of theft occupied the other seats.
Two sealed reports lay before Dr.
Henry.
“These are preliminary findings,” he began.
“They establish the origin, composition, and short-term biochemical performance of the samples.
Full clinical trials will take considerably longer.”
Lyra folded her arms.
“Then nothing has truly been proven.”
Dr.
Henry ignored her.
“Both laboratories confirmed that the evidence seals were intact.
The samples contain the same compound described in Isla’s patent abstract and surviving research notes.”
Isla kept her hands folded in her lap.
“The formula was also compared against registered drugs and patent applications,” he continued.
“No earlier filing contains the same combination or ratios.”
Roland shifted in his chair.
Dr.
Henry opened the second report.
“Ashworth University provided laboratory access records, archived data, and signed reports confirming that Isla began developing the compound before any comparable patent was submitted.”
Lyra’s expression tightened.
“That only proves she used their laboratory.”
“It proves more than that.” Dr.
Henry turned several pages.
“The archived records contain failed ratios identical to those documented in her notebooks.
The dates demonstrate a clear progression toward the formula in her provisional patent.”
“And the samples?” Vespera asked.
“They performed as her records predicted.”
Every gaze turned toward him.
“In controlled simulations, the serum reduced the neurological signals associated with a wolf’s loss of control.
Unlike traditional suppressants, it did not sever communication between the wolf and human consciousness.”
The family healer leaned forward.
“And the wolfsbane toxicity?”
“Significantly lower than in existing treatments.”
Something warm expanded in Isla’s chest.
Her serum worked.
She had always believed it would, but belief was different from hearing an expert confirm it before the people who had called her a fraud.
Henry placed both reports on the table.
“The work is original.
The samples produced the predicted preliminary results, and every verified date identifies Isla Spencer as the researcher.”
No one spoke.
Serena gave a satisfied growl.
‘Make them kneel.’
Lyra recovered first.
“The final journal is still missing.
How can you verify incomplete research?”
“The missing journal creates a security concern,” Dr.
Henry answered.
“It does not invalidate the surviving evidence.”
“So the formula is incomplete.”
“Incomplete is not fraudulent.”
“These tests were rushed,” Lyra insisted.
“And you were already impressed by her before the laboratories became involved.
How do we know you didn’t influence them?”
Dr.
Henry slid the reports toward her.
“The neutral witness selected both facilities.
Neither Logan nor Isla knew which laboratories received the samples.”
Roland cleared his throat.
“We only raised reasonable concerns.
No one should be punished for asking questions.”
Isla looked at him.
“You called me a thief.”
His face darkened.
“You said an Omega without a famous mentor could not have created the formula,” she continued.
“That wasn’t a question.”
Vespera lifted one hand, ending the argument.
“A Vale does not make a wager only when victory is convenient.” Her stern gaze moved across the accusers.
“The evidence supports Isla.
You will honor the agreement.”
Lyra stared at her mother.
“You expect us to kneel to her?”
“I expect you to keep your word.”
The two other relatives reluctantly left their chairs.
Their faces burned as they lowered themselves to the floor.
Roland followed after a long hesitation.
Lyra remained standing.
“I will not kneel to an Omega.”
The air grew heavy.
Logan had not moved, but gold entered his eyes.
The pressure of his authority spread through the dining hall, making the glasses tremble.
Lyra’s knees began to shake.
“Logan,” Vespera warned.
“She accepted the wager,” he said coldly.
“She will fulfill it.”
Vespera turned back to her daughter.
“Kneel willingly, Lyra, or Logan will make the choice for you.”
Fury twisted Lyra’s face.
She fought the pressure for several seconds before her knees struck the floor.
The sound echoed through the hall.
Their humiliation could not erase years of being treated as worthless.
It could not remove the bruises around her throat or recover her missing journal.
But no one could dismiss her work again.
“Apologize,” Vespera ordered.
“We’re sorry,” Roland muttered.
“That isn’t enough,” Isla said.
Lyra glared at her.
“What more do you want?”
“The truth.” Isla held her gaze.
“Say that I did not steal my research.
Say that the formula is mine.”
One by one, they repeated the words.
Lyra spoke last, every syllable strained.
“The research is yours.
You did not steal it.”
“And being an Omega does not make me dishonest, ignorant, or beneath basic respect.”
Outrage flashed across their faces.
Vespera’s expression remained unyielding.
“You heard her.”
The three relatives obeyed.
Lyra’s hands curled against her skirt.
“Being an Omega does not make you dishonest, ignorant, or beneath basic respect.”
The apology held no sincerity, but Isla had not expected any.
She had wanted the accusation withdrawn before witnesses.
She had wanted ownership of her work placed beyond their contempt.
Logan looked at her.
“Is the wager satisfied?”
The decision belonged to her.
“The wager is satisfied,” Isla said.
“Nothing more.”
Logan inclined his head.
Vespera dismissed the family.
Lyra rose without looking at anyone and swept from the room, Roland hurrying behind her.
Dr.
Henry gathered the reports after they left, but one document remained on the table.
“Your formula still needs years of development,” he told Isla.
“It needs clinical trials, legal protection, and a laboratory no one can take away from you.”
Isla looked down at the document.
The name of Dr.
Henry’s medical research institute was printed across the top.
“Why are you showing me this?”
He smiled.
“Because I have an offer for you.”