“I’m an Omega.”
The room goes still.
“I’ve been on suppressants since I was sixteen. My father put me on them the day after my mother’s funeral. He told me it was the only way I could have the career I wanted. He said the Council would never accept an Omega in a position of power, and he was right. So I hid. I became what they needed me to be—a regional representative, my father’s successor, the perfect Alpha. And I’ve been doing it for eighteen years.”
Caroline is staring at her. So is Amara. June has her hands wrapped around her teacup, her knuckles white.
“The suppressants,” Caroline says slowly. “They’re degrading. Because of the Rift.”
“Yes. Whatever is disrupting bonds in Willowbrook is affecting all Omega biology. My suppressants are failing. If it continues, I’ll be exposed. Every hidden Omega in Chicago will be exposed.”
“That’s why they’re pushing TrueBond so hard,” I say, the final piece clicking into place. “Deveraux’s app. It’s not just about bonding rates. It’s about control. If the suppressants fail and hidden Omegas are exposed, the Council needs a system in place to manage them. TrueBond is that system. Forced compatibility matching, tracked bonds, regulated packs. They’re building a cage and dressing it up as a matchmaking service.”
Helena nods. “Marcus Deveraux isn’t just a contractor. He’s an architect. He’s been designing the infrastructure for a post-suppressant world—a world where Omegas can’t hide, where every bond is registered and monitored, where the Council has total control over who pairs with whom.”
“Gideon’s father,” I say. “Victor Ash. He was killed because he knew too much?”
“We think so. The car accident happened during a minor flare, on a road he drove every night. The official report said magical interference caused the loss of control. But my father was a regional representative at the time. He had access to blood witches. Memory alteration is within their capability, and Silas has evidence that his own memories were altered as a child.”
“Your father erased your memories?” Caroline looks at Silas.
“Not personally. But he ordered it. My mother’s death—I can’t remember it. There’s a wall where the memory should be. The only people who could build a wall like that are blood witches operating under Council sanction.”
The room absorbs this. Thistle shifts on the bookshelf and knocks a paperback to the floor. No one moves to pick it up.
“So what do we do?” Griffin asks.
It’s the simplest question and the hardest one. I look around the room—at Caroline’s face, at Amara’s clenched jaw, at June’s steady hands, at Helena’s exhausted resolve, at Silas’s grim determination.
“We don’t have enough to go public,” I say. “Not yet. Victor Ash’s wards are the smoking gun, but we need more. We need to understand the full scope of the collection system, identify everyone involved, and figure out how to dismantle it without blowing the Rift wide open.”
“Because if the Rift destabilizes completely—” June starts.
“Then we’re looking at something much worse than flares and failed bonds. The legend says the last catastrophic event killed almost everyone in town. The Council dismisses it as folklore, but Berrick didn’t think so, and neither do I.”
“So we’re sitting on a weapon,” Amara says. “And the people who built it are still out there.”
“Deveraux is still out there,” Silas says. “My father is still out there. The High Chancellor is still out there. And none of them know that we know.”
“Yet,” Helena adds.
“Yet.”
Caroline stands. She’s been quiet through most of this, listening, absorbing. But now she’s on her feet, and there’s something on her face I recognize—the same look she gets when she’s mixing a complicated potion, when the pieces start coming together, and she can see the shape of the solution.
“We protect the town,” she says. “That’s step one. Damon, you reinforce the wards. Make them stronger than they’ve ever been. If the Council comes sniffing around, I want them to hit a wall.”
I nod. “I can do that.”
“June, you keep doing what you’re doing. Aftercare for the Omegas, suppressant alternatives, whatever you can find. If the bonding failures are caused by the Rift, then reducing the flare impact should help.”
“I’ve been working on it. The potion I gave you during your heat—it’s crude, but it’s a start. If I can get access to more texts, more ingredients?—”
“Aunt Etta’s library,” I say. “You’ll have full access.”
June nods, her mind already racing ahead.
“Amara. I need you to talk to people. Gently. Find out what the other Omegas are experiencing, what they’re afraid of, what they’ve noticed. We need to know how widespread this is beyond just our immediate circle.”
