Seven years of statistical analysis. Heat cycles vs. tour dates. Conception rates in signed Omegas vs. independent ones. The spike in "exhaustion" hospitalizations correlating exactly with the implementation of the suppression riders.
"This is..." I flipped a page. It was a graph of systematic erasure. "Where did you get this?"
"I collected it," Juno said. "Piece by piece. Every client I lost. Every friend who went quiet. Every time I heard a whisper at a party."
He placed a hand on the open file.
"They argue that biology is a liability," Juno said, his voice thrumming with a suppressed rage that smelled faintly ofburnt sugar. "They say they have to manage Omegas because of instability. This data proves the opposite. The instability is manufactured. The contracts create the crisis they claim to solve."
He looked at Stephen.
"They can't argue with data," Juno said. "Make it retroactive. Void every NDA that covered up a medical incident triggered by these clauses. Free them all."
Stephen picked up the file. He scanned a page, his eyebrows knitting together. "This gives us standing for the recall," he noted. "This proves the 'defect' has been systemic for a decade."
"Then we add it," I said, grabbing the draft. "Subsection B is in."
I looked at the cover letter. The document that would introduce the Anchor Protocol to the court of public opinion and the High Court of Justice.
It needed signatures.
I uncapped my pen. I wrote my name.Rowan Quill.
Then I paused.
"I need to sign this alone," I said, staring at the black ink.
"Don't be ridiculous," Stephen said, reaching for the pen.
I pulled it away. "No. Listen to me. If I sign this, I’m the target. I’m already the target. But if you sign this... if Stephen signs this, Vance will go after your license. He’ll file ethics complaints."
I looked at Juno. "He’ll burn your network. You’ll never book a client again."
I looked at Mateo, who was standing by the window, cleaning something that looked suspiciously like a weapon with the casual ease of someone checking their email.
"He’ll declare you a security risk," I told him. "You’ll lose your bonding license."
"Rowan," Mateo said. He didn't stop cleaning the gun. "Give the pen to Stephen."
"I am trying to protect you!" I snapped, the stress causing my voice to fray. "That is my job. I manage the risk. You three are the asset I need to protect."
"We are not the asset," Juno said, stepping into my space. He gently pried the pen from my fingers. "We are the Pack."
He looked at me, his eyes softening just a fraction.
"You think you’re standing in front of us," Juno murmured. "When we rescued you from that alley we thought we were standing in front ofyou, but the truth is the formation changed a while ago, darling. We stand beside you, beside each other."
He handed the pen to Stephen.
Stephen didn't hesitate. He sat down, adjusted the cuff of his shirt, and signed his name in a sharp, angular script right below mine.Stephen Ashcroft, Esq.
"I was bored with corporate law anyway," Stephen said dryly. "Disbarment would give me time to write my memoirs."
He passed the pen to Juno.
Juno signed with a flourish, a signature that looked like a piece of art.Juno L.
"I’ve been burning bridges for years," Juno said, capping the pen and tossing it to Mateo. "I enjoy the light."
