“Right now, our country is in shambles because ofyourmother. Feral alphas roam the streets. Omegas are in hiding. Soldiers are forced to patrol twenty-four seven. We’re trying to distribute the suppressant wherever we can, but it’s not enough. It never seems to be enough."
Tension ripples through him, and his head begins to erratically jerk from side to side. Colter immediately grabs my shoulder and drags me protectively to his side ready to pull me away if the need arises.
Thankfully, Stefan seems to get himself under control. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising, and then releases it.
“We can help each other,” he continues, snapping his eyes open and spearing me in place. “Weneedto help each other. You know what your mother did isn’t right?—”
Alpha Team X bursts into camp, guns raised, all pointed right at him. Their boots thunder across the ground until they're close.
I raise my hand like I did to stop Colter's interference, but the rest of the team doesn't lower their weapons. They fan out and keep their eyes locked on Stefan, who has the sense to remain perfectly still.
The air vibrates with tension, the fury of my men colliding with Stefan's righteous outrage, clashing until I feel like I'm about to be hit by a tornado.
"Everyone, stop!" I command, in my most powerful "Teddie" voice. "We are going to sit the fuck down and talk eyeball to eyeball with Stefan."
Someone on this fucking planet has to do something to stop this war at some point.
It clearly won't be my mother because she's turning out to be even crueler than I ever imagined.
I guess it's going to be me.
A fucking omega is going to end this war once and for all.
Mother would never believe it.
The irony actually makes me snort.
"Do you want to sit?" Stefan asks.
"Actually, I think it's best if we stay like this," I reply. "Keeps the guys less jittery if there's some space between us."
Keeps me from constantly freaking out about my own suppressants as well. At least a little bit. At least enough to pretend.
He nods. "I should tell you, my brothers are with me."
My brow lowers, and Colter tenses next to me, shifting closer.
"Where?" I ask.
He gestures behind himself, into the tent. "They're unarmed. And they're also on suppressants."
"Let the princes come out, but they need to stay behind you," I reply, edging back just a bit because the breeze is picking up.
Right now, it's flooding my mouth with the taste of copper. But if it shifts…
I dig around in my pocket and finger a narrow spray bottle—a travel-sized suppressant. I flick the lid off with my thumb and hold it, just in case.
Stefan nods and turns toward the tent.
Meanwhile, I try to communicate telepathically with my guys that no matter fucking what, they cannot kill these princes. If I ever want this stupid war to end, we cannot take out the royal figureheads. But all of them cock their guns behind me.
Goddammit.
Men.
I'm going to have to spell it out for them, aren't I?
Low enough that I hope it won't travel to Stefan, but loud enough for my men to hear, I say, "Guys, the other princes are hereunarmed. Don't put holes in their royals."
