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Rhene sighed. “Yeah, that sounds familiar. Grayson is a good guy, but it drives me mad that he always speaks in fucking riddles and never has any concrete information for us.”
“At the risk of sounding equally mysterious, we’re not supposed to have information about the future,” Fergal said. “We’re called to make the right decisions with the information we have. If we knew how things would turn out, it would be too easy to manipulate people.”
He might have a point, but that didn’t mean Rhene had to like it. “Back to our original discussion. How the hell do we all get out of here safely?”
“Can we get fake passports for the omegas?” Fergal asked.
Gregor pursed his lips. “Maybe, but that’s gonna take time with a group that size, and we don’t have time.”
Rhene sat up straight. “You can fly.”
“Not across the ocean. Omegas aren’t strong enough to fly that far,” Gregor said. “And I’m talking about physical strength, not their magical abilities. Hell, we didn’t even fly here. A trip like that would be too exhausting. We took a plane like everyone else.”
Rhene visualized a map. “What if you fly south first, to the Norwegian coast, and then make the jump to the Faroe Islands? From there, you could reach Iceland and then Greenland. Maybe?”
Fergal nodded. “That would be an option. It would be cold as balls, though. The average temperature in Greenland this time of year will probably be far below freezing point.”
“Can you guys handle that?”
Fergal harrumphed. “We live in Canada, dude. It’s not like it’s warm and toasty there in the winter. But it does affect our energy levels and how long we can fly. Plus, we’d only be able to travel at night, which is even colder than during the day. It would be a long journey, but I think it’s doable.” He looked at Gregor. “What do you think?”
“I agree it’s doable, but my primary concern is our safety. If you and I accompany them, that would mean eight omegas with two alphas to protect them…and only one of them with combat experience. I don’t like those odds. We wouldn’t be able to stave off any attacks.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Fergal asked.
Gregor’s shoulders dropped. “No. As much as I hate to admit it, this is our best shot.”
“We could stop by our home and let any of our omegas join us before we make our way down south,” Fergal said. “It may be easier for them to trust this is real if we show up with eight omegas in tow.”
Gregor put his hand on Fergal’s shoulder. “You realize this could mean we lose all our omegas, right?”
Fergal let out a sigh. “Yeah, but what else can I do? If I don’t give them a choice, I’m no better than my father, who forbade everyone from leaving. They should have a say in where they want to live and what clan they belong to. I refuse to hold them against their will, even if they wouldn’t know any better.”
“I’ve never been prouder of you.” Gregor leaned in and kissed Fergal hard, leaving the younger man a bit dazzled and shaken.
“Right.” Fergal cleared his throat. “That’s decided, then. We’ll need to leave as soon as possible.”
“What about you?” Gregor asked Rhene.
“I’ll shift and make it south as a wolf. If you tie a bag with some clothes to my back, I’ll be fine. I can grab a plane home from anywhere, and the less I plan, the harder it will be for the Murphys to find me.”
“Splitting up will also help with that,” Fergal said. “If we all stay together, they can attack us in force.”
“I’m not splitting up from you, just so we’re clear.” Gregor’s voice was firm.
“We could each take four omegas and?—”
“No. And that’s final.”
Fergal put his hands on his hips. “You do realize I’m the king, right? That technically, you work for me?”
Gregor took a step closer. “Are you sure you wanna play it that way? Because I can put you over my knee again and?—”
Fergal held up his hands, his cheeks reddening. “Nope, no need. Shutting up now.”
“Smart.”
Rhene slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. He was rooting for those two to make it. What a perfect combination they made.
