Power without stability is unreliable, and Halley Sparks remains one breath away from dooming us all.
As it currently stands, her bond with Scorch Squad is nothing more than a hollow theory, one that will equate to naught when the time comes.
Dolores’ research was crystal clear. She must be claimed and mated to a complete Pack. Without that support, an unmated Omega will crumble under the strain of her powers. She may even turn it on her own people.
Still, she fails to grasp the urgency of her duty.
We are on the brink of extinction, and she indulges in wounded pride. We do not have the luxury of waiting for her emotions to mend themselves.
I did not choose Omega Sparks for this task. Of course not. She was too old, too fractured by her past, too soft to become anything useful. I knew this.
But fate, ever the foolish romantic, intervened the day she pulled Lieutenant Viper from death’s doorstep in that hospital.
I grow tired of waiting. Tired of the delays. Tired of watching potential squandered by incompetence and sentiment.
What part of our species’ imminent annihilation does she not understand?
There is no time for a traditional courtship period. For sweet words or getting to know her future mates. It’s ridiculous.
The enemy is marching on our people, slaughtering them as each wasted minute passes, and the window of opportunity for our salvation is closing.
We must defend the Blackreach Pass at all costs and stop them from invading the last bastion of security for Demi-humans.
No amount of fire-power will ever be enough. Only an Omega Command can keep them at bay.
The Capital has abandoned us, shutting their gates and hiding behind their high walls as if the human invasion will simply go away.
The Fathim Military has collapsed.
I have dispatched every able-bodied soldier to escort the survivors fleeing the fall of Fathim. They are being funneled to outposts scattered across the farthest edges of Blackreach Province, where they will attempt to carve out new lives from ruin.
We have lost countless good soldiers. Those who were capable, loyal, and faultless in their execution of their duty to the survival of our species.
And now, it all hangs in the balance. One misstep, one failure of will, and it all collapses.
I’ve done everything I could to force the Pack back together. I sent her to the front lines where intel placed Scorch Squad. I dangled the lives of her little Omega friends before her, using them to keep her compliant.
How I wish I could force it. Make her obedient. Force her to learn discipline. To demand the claiming bite, to make them mate her, to strip away all this maddening hesitation.
But alas, that is not how the mating bond for Packs works. It is a delicate alchemy, equal parts instinct and belief. All five must want it. All five must trust it. Without that collective will, the claiming simply won’t take and the bond will not form.
And so, I am left in the intolerable position of waiting.
Perhaps the fault lies with me. Perhaps I doomed this operation from the start by prioritizing structure over instinct. I wanted her to learn discipline, to understand duty and loyalty before accessing the power buried within her. I believed that control must come before capability.
In doing so, I squandered time we no longer have.
And still, Scorch Squad continues to hesitate, and the outcome remains maddeningly elusive.
I am at a loss as to what is holding them back. There are no restrictions. No fraternization rules to tiptoe around. Nothing stands between them and what must be done.
There is an unmated, pheromone-dripping Omega sleeping in their den. Every biological urge in their bodies should be driving them to sink their teeth into her and make her theirs.
But they resist, and it tells me everything I need to know.
The flaw is not in the soldiers. Scorch Squad knows their duty. They understand sacrifice. They have accomplished the impossible under the worst of conditions. No, they do not falter.
Shedoes.
