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“And Omegas are those wolves who lose their tethers.”
“Alpha Bennett, Alpha Matheson, is there a point to all of this? Or did you ask to speak with me simply to cover topics already well known to all?”
“Humor us,” Ox said.
Michelle sighed. “Yes. Omegas are wolves whose tethers are lost. Those wolves who have lost mates or packs and cannot find a way to latch on to something else.”
“Richard Collins had dozens of them at his disposal,” I reminded her.
“He did.” She smiled. “The Bennett pack handled them admirably.”
“Richard himself had already turned Omega before he died.”
“A terrible tragedy. I wish things could have been different.”
“How?”
“How?” she repeated slowly. “How what?”
“Thirty-six in twenty-nine states,” I snapped at her. “Twenty-one in three Canadian provinces. That’s what Pappas told us. Those are the numbers of packs that remain in North America. And it bugged me when he said it. I couldn’t figure out why. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realized. Richard had dozens of Omegas behind him. And there were others that came here without him. How are there so many of them? Where are they coming from? Unless packs and wolves are being exterminated left and right and you haven’t warned us, then how are there so many Omegas? They happen. Omegas. I get that. But not like this. Not this many.”
“Where is Philip?” she asked again.
“The Omega that he came for. You just said Ox helped her. You knew she was dead already.”
She sat back in her chair. “Are you accusing me of something, witch?”
“You said you last spoke with Pappas two days ago,” I said coldly. “And he arrived yesterday. And yet, somehow, you knew Ox had killed her. The only way you would have known would be if you lied about when you last spoke to Pappas, or if you sent him here strictly with the orders to have Ox take matters into his own hands. To see what Ox would do. To see what he was capable of.”
The room was silent.
Then, “Philip could have called me after he left the Bennett house.”
“And did he?” I asked.
Her gaze was calculating, but she said nothing.
“Because I don’t think he did. You see, the reason I don’t think he did is because your second was too busy murdering the Betas traveling with him.”
Michelle Hughes closed her eyes.
Goddammit. I hated being right. “He tried to tell me. He spoke of fraying and breaking. And I didn’t understand what he meant. I know now. He was talking about tethers. His tether. Somehow he was losing it. And you knew about that.”
She opened her eyes. The smile was gone. Regardless of what I thought of her, Michelle was still an Alpha. Even through the screen, she radiated power. “Not about him,” she said. “Never him. He must have—one of the others. He must have found himself infected. He was careless, somehow. Dropped his guard.”
“With what?” Robbie asked, sounding slightly hysterical. “What the hell could infect a werewolf? We’re immune to almost everything!”
She sat forward suddenly, eyes flashing. “Was anybody bitten? Was any other wolf exposed? Come into contact with the blood?”
“Why?” Ox growled at her. “What would that matter if—”
“Answer me. Was anyone bitten.”
No. Oh fuck no, please, please, please—
“What did you do?” I snarled, taking a step forward. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Mark was bitten,” Joe said, glancing worriedly around the room. “And Carter cleaned his wound.”
