Before my parents died.
Before everything changed.
"Kai's father is already making moves."
Sage's voice cuts through my food-induced reverie.
I open my eyes, finding him watching me with that particular expression—half amusement, half concern—that seems to be his default when he's not sure how I'm going to react.
"What kind of moves?"
"Subtle ones." Kai speaks without looking up from his steak. His knife moves through the meat with precise, controlled strokes—one-two-three-fourcuts before he spears a piece with his fork. "He's testing. Checking whether the information he received is accurate."
"The information being...?"
"That his son and heir has claimed an Omega." Kai finally lifts his gaze, dark gold meeting mismatched blue-and-green. "Not just any Omega. The last surviving Eastman."
The words land heavily.
The last surviving Eastman.
It's not news—I've known who I am my entire life—but hearing it stated so baldly, at this table full of people who were originally sent to kill me, makes it feel different.
More real.
More dangerous.
"So it can happen at any moment," I say, reaching for another roll because stress-eating is apparently my new coping mechanism. "Whatever 'it' is."
"The confrontation." Blaze's grin has sharpened into something more predatory. "Daddy Lawson isn't going to let this slide. He sent us here to eliminate the Eastman heir, and instead we'veclaimedher. That's not just disobedience—it's a direct challenge to his authority."
"Plus the whole 'trying to have us killed' thing," Sage adds casually. "Can't forget that."
"I haven't forgotten." Kai's voice is flat.Controlled.But there's something burning underneath—a rage so cold it doesn't need heat to destroy. "The goal is to ensure he's heard that we'rein a pack with you. An Eastman. That alone will send him over the edge."
I nod slowly, processing.
Bait.
That's what I am.
The lure that brings the monster out of hiding.
It should bother me—being used as a tool, a weapon, a means to an end. But honestly? I've been used for worse things by people who cared about me far less.
At least these Alphas are honest about it.
At least they're not pretending this is something it's not.
"So it can happen at any moment," I repeat, confirming. "Any day in the next six. We need to be ready."
"We're always ready," Jett says quietly. It's the first time he's spoken since we sat down, and his voice carries that same eerie calm that seems to be his defining characteristic. "That's what we do."
We eat in silence for a few minutes.
The food is incredible—every bite better than the last, every flavor a reminder of what I've been missing in my bare-bones existence at Ruthless Academy. I find myself eating faster than I should, barely chewing, like some part of me is afraid the food will disappear if I don't consume it quickly enough.
Survival instinct.
