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The Omega snapped her jaws at me.
Elizabeth jerked her arm harshly.
“Jessie,” Ox said, “move away.”
Jessie did, slowly and never taking her eyes off the Omega.
“Mom,” Joe said, “maybe you should—”
Elizabeth didn’t look at him when she said, “Hush, Joe.”
Joe hushed.
She whispered and whispered.
The Omega stared at me with wide eyes.
Eventually violet faded to a muddy brown. Her hair was wet and plastered to her shoulders. She had a towel wrapped around her chest and waist.
Her face was puffy and pale.
“Alpha,” she said again, voice breaking. “Please. Alpha.”
Her hands were claws as she held them toward Ox. Toward Joe.
Joe said, “She’s just like the others.”
“She’s an Omega,” Elizabeth said, her grip ever-tight. Her fingers were slick with
blood. “She doesn’t know any better. None of them do.”
“Alpha,” the Omega said through a mouthful of fangs. “Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.”
OX SAID, “I don’t understand.”
“I know. You wouldn’t. Not now.”
“I’ve seen Omegas. When they came here. Before. With Thomas. And after, when you all were gone. Even with Richard, they had… they weren’t like this. They still were in control. And after… I don’t know. I thought we’d closed that door.”
Ah, yes. The door. The connection to the Omegas he’d felt after Richard Collins had become an Alpha. We didn’t talk about it much. “How is it?”
“The same as always.”
I told myself I believed him.
He sat behind the desk in the office. Joe had refused to leave his mother’s side while she looked after the Omega. It was late. The humans had gone home. Carter and Kelly were on patrol, running the edges of the territory. Robbie was in his room. Mark was… well. I didn’t need to think about where Mark was. It was none of my business.
I picked at a long scar in the wood on the surface of the desk. It’d come from one of the kids in the old pack, still not in control of her shift. She’d died when the hunters had come. “They degrade.”
Ox scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired and oh so young. “What?”
I chose my words carefully. “Omegas. They degrade. The tether, it’s… a bond. It’s metaphysical. An emotion. A person. A spiritual attachment. It holds a wolf to their humanity. Keeps them from getting lost to the animal.”
“And a witch.”
I looked up at him. He was watching me, head cocked. “I don’t—”
“You said it holds a wolf to their humanity. It works the same for witches. You told me that once.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. It creaked under his weight.
