“I think we should stay,” I say, the words falling into the silence like stones into still water. “I think we should fight.”
The reaction is immediate—a collective intake of breath, a shift in the energy of the room. Poe straightens in his corner, a flash of satisfaction crossing his features before his usual mask of indifference returns. Ares’s massive shoulders tense, his expression darkening with concern. Cillian’s pale eyes meet mine across the room, something like respect flickering in their icy depths.
And Logan... Logan remains utterly still, his golden gaze boring into me as if trying to see past my words to the reasoning behind them.
“Why?” he asks simply.
It’s a fair question. After all my deliberation, all my weighing of options, I owe them an explanation. I owe myself one, too.
“Because running doesn’t solve anything,” I say, the certainty in my voice surprising even me. “It just delays the inevitable. The king’s reach is long, and his memory longer. He’d find us eventually, whether it takes months or years.”
I turn to face Poe, acknowledging his argument from days ago. “And because there are others like me out there. Other Omegas being experimented on, being treated as less than human. Running means abandoning them to that fate. I can’t do that. Not when there’s a chance, however small, that we could change things.”
Poe nods once, a sharp jerk of his head that conveys both approval and vindication. He believed all along that this would be my choice.
“And what about the risk?” Ares demands, his voice tight with concern. “What about the very real possibility that we’ll all die in this rebellion of yours?”
I meet his gaze steadily. “We might die either way,” I point out. “At least this way, we die for something. We die trying to make a difference.”
Ares doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue further. There’s a resignation in his posture that tells me he expected this outcome, even if he hoped for a different one.
“What about you?” I ask Cillian, turning to face him. “You said you’d support whatever I decided. Does that still stand?”
His pale eyes hold mine for a long moment before he nods. “It stands,” he says simply. “If you believe this is the right path, I’ll walk it with you.”
The support in his voice, the quiet confidence in his posture, sends a wave of gratitude through me. Whatever else happens, whatever complications lie between us, I know I can count on Cillian to have my back.
Finally, I turn to Logan, who has remained silent throughout this exchange. His expression is unreadable, his golden eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.
“And you?” I ask, my voice softer now. “You said this would be my decision. That you’d abide by whatever I chose. Do you still mean that?”
Logan pushes away from the wall, his movements deliberate and controlled. “I meant it,” he says, his voice steady. “If you want to stay and fight, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Relief washes through me, though I try not to show it. Part of me had feared he might renege on his promise, might try to overrule my decision with his Alpha authority. The fact that he’s honoring his word, respecting my choice even though it puts us all in danger, feels significant.
“Then it’s decided,” I say, looking around at all of them. “We stay. We fight. We try to change things, not just for ourselves but for everyone the king’s regime has hurt.”
The weight of the decision settles over the room, heavy with implications and consequences none of us can fully predict. I’ve chosen our path, for better or worse. Now we have to walk it together.
I expect the discussion to turn to our next steps—contacting Nikolai, gathering allies, planning strategy. But Logan clears his throat, drawing all eyes to him.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” he says, his voice tight with an emotion I can’t quite identify. “Something Nikolai told me that I haven’t shared yet.”
The tension in the room shifts, focusing on Logan with an intensity that makes the air feel heavy. Whatever this is, it’s not good news.
“What is it?” Poe asks, straightening from his slouch against the wall.
Logan’s jaw works for a moment, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “The king has made an announcement,” he says finally. “A major policy initiative that’s being implemented immediately.”
“What kind of initiative?” Ares asks, his voice sharp with suspicion.
Logan’s golden eyes find mine, holding my gaze as he delivers the news. “The opening of a network of government-sponsored fertility clinics throughout Melilla. Ostensibly to address the declining Omega population.”
The words steal my breath. Fertility clinics. Government-sponsored. The implications cascade through my mind, each one more horrifying than the last.
“The doctor’s research,” I whisper, the words barely audible. “They’re implementing it.”
Logan nods, his expression grim. “That’s what Nikolai believes. And I agree with him.”
