"But the war," Mateo rumbled. "The war is done."
Juno leaned back in his chair. He looked different. The frantic, terrified edge of his heat was gone, but so was the mask he used to wear. He looked solid. Real.
"Zurich," Juno said.
I blinked. "What?"
"There’s a consulting firm in Zurich," Juno said. "One of the assets seized in the freeze. It has offices overlooking the lake. State of the art security. It’s available."
"You want to move to Zurich?" I asked.
"I want to operate from the light," Juno said. "London is too small. Too many ghosts. If we’re going to run the Anchor Initiative... if we’re going to be the new standard... we need to be visible."
He looked at me. Then at Stephen and Mateo.
"All of us," Juno said. "Visible. Unashamed. The Beta manager. The Omega strategist. The Alpha counsel and the Alpha shield. No more hiding in cabins. No more black sites."
"There would be excellent privacy laws protecting us," Stephen noted, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"And defensible perimeters," Mateo added.
They were already planning the logistics. They were already moving forward.
I looked at them. My Pack.
They hadn't scrubbed the red marker from their wrists. It was faint now, a shadow of ink, but it was there.
"Are we..." I started, then stopped. My voice felt small in the quiet room.
They all turned to me.
"Are we a Pack?" I asked.
It was the first time I had said the word without a qualifier. Without "beta test" or "prototype."
Mateo didn't hesitate. He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. His palm was warm, rough, and heavy.
"Yes," he said.
"Biologically, yes, and the rest will come with time," Stephen reasoned, placing his hand over Mateo’s.
"Narratively," Juno smiled, completing the pile. "Definitely."
"I want it formal," I said. "When this is over. When the settlement clears and we aren't running on fumes. I want ink. I want paper. I want it on the record that we chose each other."
Stephen’s eyes softened behind his lenses. "I’ll draft the agreement."
We sat there for a long time, hands piled in the center of the scarred table, listening to the woods breathe. We had dismantled a machine that chewed people up, and we had built something new out of the scrap metal.
I looked at my laptop. The screen was dark.
"Close them," I said.
Mateo reached out and snapped his laptop shut. Stephen followed. Juno tapped his tablet off.
I closed mine.
The screens went black. The only light in the room was the fire in the stove and the eyes of the three men who looked at me like I was the only law that mattered.
