Silas looked at me. Not at Rae, not at the twins, not at any of his other mates gathered around the table. At me. His gaze was heavy with something old and terrible.
"Because the last person who carried that classification was hunted down and killed." His voice was hollow. "Along with everyone who knew what she was."
The words hit the room like stones dropped into still water. I felt the ripples—the sharp intake of breath from Kane, the way Kade's hand tightened on his mug, the tension that snapped through Rae's shoulders.
"Carried," Tomlinson said slowly. "You said carried. Like a title. A designation."
"A classification," Silas confirmed. "For a type of wolf that I thought was extinct."
"What type?" I asked.
His eyes stayed on mine. I saw the war in them—the part that wanted to speak fighting against decades of silence, of protection, of fear.
"I can't," he said finally. "Not yet. Not until I'm certain."
"Certain of what?"
He didn't answer. But he didn't look away either.
And in that silence, in the weight of his gaze and the echo of that single word still ringing in my ears, I understood.
Whatever Omega meant—whatever that classification represented—he thought it might apply to me.
Chapter thirteen
Ifound Cole in the security office.
It was late—almost midnight—but I knew he'd be there. He practically lived in that room, surrounded by monitors and reports and the constant hum of equipment tracking every inch of the Healing Center. The door was open. He sat at his desk, back to me, reviewing footage on one of the screens. He didn't turn when I entered, but I saw his shoulders tighten. He knew it was me. The bond made sure of that.
"I know what I am."
The words came out steady. Calm. I'd had hours to process since leaving Silas's study, hours of walking through dark campus paths and turning the information over in my mind until the sharp edges dulled.
Cole's hand froze on the mouse. He still didn't turn around.
"Omega," I said. "That's the word everyone's been dancing around. The thing you couldn't tell me. The biological change that can't be stopped once it starts."
Silence.
"Silas told me. The twins found records in Europe—old council documents that should have been destroyed. Because Emory erased it. Erased them. Every Omega who existed, hunted down and killed."
"I know."
Two words. Quiet. Heavy.
Cole turned his chair to face me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were full of something old and painful.
"I know what happened to them," he said. "I know better than Silas does."
"How?"
He was quiet for a long moment. I watched him weigh something—how much to say, how much to keep hidden. Then he exhaled, and something in his posture shifted. Surrendered.
"My mother is one of them."
The words hit me like cold water.
"Your mother is an Omega?"
