"And… there are others? In the hierarchy?" A small wrinkle forms between her eyes, and she gently bites her bottom lip.
"Deltas. Their magic flows steadily, like a light left on in a room. It's constant, but never intense. A lightbulb is not as warm as a flame. Right?"
She nods slowly. A strand of her vibrant red hair, still dark from her shower, falls across her forehead as she leans forward, waiting for me to continue. Waiting for what she really wants to know.
"And then, there are omegas." My voice softens with reverence. "I've met a few in my life before you. The last one in our clan, she was almost as old as Doc… she passed a long time ago. Omega's shifter magic… It's different from the rest of ours. If an alpha's power burns like the sun, and a beta's like a bonfire, and a delta's like a lightbulb… an omega is cool and luminous. It pulls at the rest of us, like our blood is the rising tide and the omega is the full moon we gravitate towards. It's wild and ancient. That's an omega's power. It doesn't burn—it transforms."
She blinks before turning away, leaning back against the worn seat. She crosses her arms across her chest and looks out the window, something heavy clearly on her mind. I don't want to push. As much as I want to hear her voice, the curiosity, to be the one with all the answers for her… I'm content just breathing in her jasmine scent.
We drive down the long, winding dirt road, further up into the mountain. We pass a few roads, and I explain we're in the heart of our lands, where many families live scattered about. When we drive through our little downtown, I point out the cluster of buildings spread out over cleared land with groups of shifters all talking and hanging out. All of them stop to watch us drive by.
We pass a massive gabled farmhouse, the scent of food wafting out, and I explain it's the cafeteria where Hilde works. Mona's stomach growls, and I feel like a shit mate for not bringing food sooner.
But her empty stomach is forgotten after we pass the jail. Mona goes rigid and I curse, wishing I could spare her this. It's so unbelievably stupid and heinous, what happened to her. Fucking criminal. It makes my blood boil. Though she likely doesn't want to talk about it, we need to.
"Mona, what happened to you was the most dishonorable thing our enforcers could have done. Yes, they were hunting a rogue, but they were ordered to bring you to heel so Grayson or I could question you. You want to know what an omega really is?"
She won't look at me, but I can feel her listening. Her scent sharpens, shoulders still stiff. I reach out and grab her hand. She flinches at first, almost pulls away, but I squeeze tighter until her soft fingers clasp mine. I'm beginning to think my mate is touch-starved. She doesn't want to hold my hand right now, but sheneedsto.
"It violates every shifter law to harm an omega. Omegas are so rare. Most communities go an entire century before having one born into their ranks. And you just showed up out of nowhere. A fucking miracle. Andrea and Stance should have bowed at your feet. At the very least, they could have simply restrained you."
She snorts and gives me side-eye. I smirk but keep going.
"Omegas share a sense of calm with shifters. To have one join a clan means peace, prosperity. Shifters flourish. Birth rates are low amongst wolves, but with an omega around, fertility increases. No one knows why, though there's a theory it has to do with the deep sense of security wolves feel when around an omega. Sometimes an omega carries other gifts. Premonitions or healing powers, though that's even rarer. Ultimately, omegas are sacred, cherished, and loved amongst all wolves. To do what they did, it's not just an atrocity. It's… well, frankly, it's just fucking strange. It goes against our nature. Omegas are notoriously peaceful creatures."
It's quiet for a few minutes. Though she still won't look directly at me, she holds my hand tight. Eventually, she says, "I don't feel like a very calm person. And there's something wrong with your theory. About omegas, I mean. If I really am one."
"You are."
She huffs and turns toward me. "Ever since I turned into a wolf—after I woke up and had some time to adjust—things got really bad. I came across the worst sort of people. Shifters, whatever you want to call them. I was chased so many times. Men, wolves, tried to snatch me, claim me, assault me. They'd catch my scent and go insane."
My hand tightens without realizing it. I feel her fingers flex in mine before I realize I'm probably crushing her. I apologize and pull away. My alpha slowly rises. His energy blazes, I can feel itscratch at the surface. I hold it back and force myself to ask the questions.
"What wolves? Where? What did they look like? Could you describe their scents?"
She shakes her head, slumping in the seat again. Crushed by the weight of the memories, I don't know, but it's in contrast with how I sit taller, get more angry.
I clear my throat. "To some packs… the smaller families, groups, or rogues, possessing an omega is… some think they can force the magic you bring with you as an omega."
"Do you… do you think Silas knew? Doc said he woke my wolf… did he know I was an omega? Is that why he did this to me?"
Finally, she turns in her seat. We're just nearing the turnoff toward Gray's and my cabin. I pause at the end of the long drive and turn to look at her. Her eyes turn glassy, but she looks angry. And tired.
If Silas attacked her as she said—and I believe her—then Silas isn't just alive, but he's out there somewhere, hurting people.
I was so certain something had happened to him, that there was no way he'd just bail on us.
But I believe Mona. Which means he did attack her.
Ourmate.
Fuck.
Silas is part of our pack. We knew our bond was Moon Goddess blessed, had known since we were pups. Which means she isn't just my and Grayson's mate. She's his, too.
I say the only thing I can think of. The painful, raw truth. "I don't know."
She impresses me more and more by the second. Because instead of crumpling with disappointment, she nods once, then turns and juts her chin toward the road.
