"Lumi." He stood. "What's wrong?"
"Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"About what I am. About Omegas. About any of it."
His face went blank with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
I told him. All of it—Silas's explanation, the purges, Emory's extermination campaign, Cole's mother hiding with her pack. I watched his expression shift from confusion to disbelief to something that looked like anger.
"No." His voice was tight. "I didn't know. None of that."
"You're sure? Nothing Cole said, nothing Rae mentioned—"
"Lumi." He caught my hands. Held them firm. "I swear to you. I had no idea. The word Omega means nothing to me. I've never heard it used before."
I searched his face. Looked for any sign of deception, any flicker that might suggest he was holding back.
There was nothing. Just shock and growing outrage on my behalf.
"Cole knew," I said. "This whole time. He knew what I was and he didn't tell me."
"Then Cole and I are going to have a conversation." James's jaw tightened. "A long one."
"Get in line."
I found Neal in his office. He was reviewing patient files, glasses perched on his nose, and he looked up with a warm smile when I entered. The smile faded when he saw my expression.
"What happened?"
I told him too. Watched the same journey play across his face—confusion, then understanding, then a quiet fury that manifested in the way his hands clenched on his desk.
"The data I collected," he said slowly. "The patterns I found. They weren't anomalies. They were markers. Signs of something that's been erased from every shifter medical text I've ever read."
"Signs of an Omega."
"Yes." He pulled off his glasses. Rubbed his eyes. "God, Lumi. If I'd known—if there had been any documentation—"
"You would have told me."
"Immediately." He stood, came around the desk, pulled me into his arms. "I would never keep something like this from you. Not about your own body. Not about who you are."
I let myself lean into him. Just for a moment. Let the bond between us steady me.
"Cole knew," I said against his chest.
"I gathered." His arms tightened around me. "I'm going to need some time alone with him when this is over."
"James already called dibs."
"We can share."
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
The pack gathered in Cal's room that afternoon. Not because anyone called a meeting—they just showed up. James first, then Stone, then Neal. Ivy came too, because Ivy always knew when something was wrong, and she wasn't about to be left out.
I told the story again. Third time now. It got easier with each telling, the words smoothing out, the sharp edges dulling.
