I forcemy father through the consortium’s front doors and take in the scene before me. Soldiers have been rounded up and bound in groups along the sweeping stairs. The sounds of battle have all but subsided, but smoke still rises from the stairs where the fighting spilled out to. They’re covered in rubble, battle-scarred from missed hexes, but still standing proud.
We did it. I can feel my wound itching as it heals and dried blood tugging at my skin, but we did it. I’ll wear the scar on my back forever, but as a badge of honor. I took down my father, we freed the hostages, and we freed the omega test subjects. And not a single omega life was lost.
The media have gathered around the blocked-off perimeter of the consortium’s sprawling entrance, cameras snapping and flashing in the dark of night. I shove my father down the stairs, driving him forward with subtle commands when he stalls, taking him down to where the press is eagerly awaiting any information they can get.
“Kneel,” I command my father in a low voice, “and confess.”
He has no choice but to comply. He tries to shake off my command, his mind muddled, but my magic is too strong for him to buck.
“I, Redwood Rose, confess to the experimentation on and murder of one hundred and nineteen omegas.” His eyes widen, aghast at what I’ve just forced him to admit. “I was taking their affinities to give to alphas within the Soldiers of Saint Aldous, all for the glory of Baphomet’s Prince. I used no anesthetic as I cut into them. Many of the Soldiers calledme ‘the butcher’ for my work, but I did it all for my Prince. Long may he reign.”
Gerard approaches from the middle of the stairs where I see the rest of Pack Leclerc gathered, Bethany’s arms around her son. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see them. They’re battered and weak, but they’re alive, and they’re back together. I send Cass all the love I can through our bond, and he looks up at me, meeting my eye. Relief floods through our mating bond, potent and poignant.
“Under the authority of the Council of Nine,” Gerard says, a hard edge to his voice. “You’re arrested for the murder of one hundred and nineteen omegas, conducting unlawful and barbaric experiments, and for aiding and abetting the Soldiers of Saint Aldous.”
Does he have the authority now that the Council of Nine is under the Prince’s control? It doesn’t seem to matter to the news teams. They snap his picture and damning photographs of my father on his knees. Exactly where he belongs. Whether he has the authority or not, Gerard speaks as if he does. As if he wasn’t facing down the impossible challenge of wresting control of the Council from Baphomet’s Prince.
“Further,” he declares. “I arrest the Soldiers of Saint Aldous who we have bound on these steps.”
It’s an empty action, but the media doesn’t know that. After all, the Soldiers rarely stay in prison.
Gerard acting as the head of the Council of Nine in front of the media will surely help turn the tide back in our favor.
“Where are the freed omega test subjects?” a reporter interjects.
Gerard glares at her. “They’re being relocated to a safe and undisclosed location.”
“Did the resistance help in this endeavor?” another journalist asks.
Gerard stares straight into the camera. “They did. Fromthis day forward, members of the resistance will no longer face treason charges. I will reclaim the Council of Nine and make it so. Nearly three hundred hostages, myself included, have the resistance to thank for their freedom tonight.”
A round of cheers goes up from the crowd of reporters, and it’s nice to know there are people on our side, that all of our work in dismantling a corrupt, hateful organization won’t be without supporters. Maybe the conservative tide of anti-omega sentiments isn’t as strong or debilitating as I had believed. Maybe there are still those who will rally around our cause.
I sag in relief the moment my father is cuffed and forced into a police prison transport vehicle.
It’s done. It’s finally done.
Today we dealt a decisive blow to Baphomet’s Prince.
It won’t go unpunished—that much I know. Our future is uncertain, and I’ve managed to draw a spotlight to myself, but I’ll rest easily tonight knowing we managed to deal this blow. That my father won’t be able to steal anymore affinities to give to the leaders of the Prince’s armies.
We’ve just taken untold numbers of potentially affinitied alphas out of the game. Because of our actions tonight, more than thirty omegas are free from the Soldiers’ clutches. In every way, tonight was a success.
I don’t know if we’ll see all-out war in the streets of Fairhaven, if my visions will come to pass, but I’m filled with more hope now than I have been in months. Together with the resistance and the affinitied omegas, we’re capable of great things. We’re capable of seeing justice meted out.
Maybe the future can be changed, and maybe I can be the one to do it, as Sienna said.
I won’t stop this fight, not until the world is safe for omegas. Not until Baphomet’s Prince and his Soldiers of Saint Aldous are vanquished for good.
Graeme stopsme the moment I enter the castle at dawn and pulls me into a hug.
“How many Soldiers did we strike down?” I murmur.
“Seventy-eight.”
“Omegas?” I venture to ask.
“A few injuries, which your Doctor Huong will attend to.”
