Chapter 62

My bound hands trembled in front of me, the plastic tarp walls of the hut seeming to close in around me, matching the tightness in my chest. Ines's words echoed in my mind as I sat there alone, staining my previous views of the world.

The realization sunk in deeper every second. The Omegas I’d been searching for, who I’d assumed to be the victims of some nefarious plot, felt safer here with the Rogues. They’d fled the supposed sanctuary of Eclipse for a lawless, uncertain existence, and they were glad.

The implications were staggering.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t aware of Eclipse’s outdated attitudes, their twisted policies and corrupt politics, but Ines’s story was a stark wake-up call to how bad it really was. Her child was murdered, and she’d had to turn to complete strangers for safety rather than her own pack. Help from Eclipse was so unlikely that it hadn’t even been worth it to try.

No, worse—if she’d have tried to expose her husband, not only would she not be believed, she wouldn’t be protected. He’d retaliate, and if he could beat his own child to death for the sin of his biology then what could he do to his Mate for actively disobeying him?

Her death would have been brutal, and he would have gotten away with it.

My short time as Luna kept playing in my mind. Every policy I’d fought for, every small victory I’d celebrated - it all seemed woefully inadequate now. I’d thought I was making a difference, but what had I really done?

That magazine interview hadn’t changed the laws, announcing my designer as an Omega hadn’t gotten Jordan hired, speaking my mind hadn’t saved Ines and her son. How many other people had I failed without ever meeting them?

I kept seeing a teenage boy dead in his own bathtub, his mother wailing as she tried to piece his skull back together. I had a feeling I’d be seeing that image for the rest of my life.

It’s not your fault, my wolf said. I took a deep, shuddering breath. Of course it wasn’t my fault, and I knew it—the only person to blame for that horrific crime was the man who had committed it, but putting him away wouldn’t keep it from happening again.

How was I supposed to solve something so deep-rooted? How was I supposed to fight generations of ingrained belief?

I sucked down some air, trying to center myself. Ines's words came back to me: no new Omegas had joined the Rogues since I became Luna, so even though the change wasn’t evident yet, they had to believe I was going to make it happen for them. There had to be some hope, or they’d still be running like they were before my Luna ceremony.

It was a small comfort, a tiny glimmer of hope in the darkness. I wrapped myself around it, desperate to protect it from the tsunami of grief and horror that threatened to drown me.

But doubt gnawed at me. The social climate in Eclipse was clearly more toxic than I’d ever imagined. Years of ingrained prejudice and oppression couldn't be erased overnight, no matter how hard I tried, and I had no idea what other injustices were still hiding in plain sight.

The further I looked, the more I’d uncover, and I knew it. It made all of this feel insurmountable.

But as I slowly paced as far as the length of rope would allow me, just to stay active, I knew that giving in to that helpless feeling would be the greatest regret of my life. I was going to fight this uphill battle for the rest of my life, and maybe it wouldn’t mean anything but it would mean more than if I didn’t try at all.

My baby was going to be a member of this pack. It didn’t matter how useless the battle was, if I could so much as wear down the enemy so my child wouldn’t have to, then I would dedicate my life to doing just that. I wanted a better world for my baby, and if nothing else could keep me fighting, that would.

The tent flap rustled, pulling me from my thoughts. Fay ducked inside, followed by an older man with a weathered face and kind eyes.

"Olivia," Fay said, her voice carefully polite. "This is Cory, our healer. I brought him in to check on you and the baby."

Cory nodded, his silver hair catching the dim light. "If you're comfortable, Luna Olivia."

I hesitated, my hand instinctively moving to my belly. This could easily be a trap, but after the physical struggle of last night plus my panic attack, I couldn’t deny that I was terrified for my baby. Just because my wolf said they were alive didn’t mean they were healthy.

Plus, something in me told me that if the Rogues wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t target my baby to do it. "I... yes, of course,” I decided. I had to take the risk.

As Cory approached, his movements gentle and unhurried, Fay settled herself on the ground across from me. The Rogue leader's posture was forcibly relaxed, but there was a tension in her shoulders and dark circles under her eyes.

Cory's hands were warm as he examined me, his touch professional and reassuring. He checked my pulse and blood pressure, and used a stethoscope to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. He narrated everything to me as he did it, and I was grateful for that.

"The little one seems to be doing well," he reported with a smile. "Strong heartbeat."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, making me swallow hard against the emotion rising in my throat. My baby’s well-being had pressed at me from the moment this all started, and knowing they were alive let me just barely push it aside to focus on immediate survival, but hearing the words well and strong took away a burden I could never have described.

"Thank you," I whispered, meeting Cory's kind gaze.

“Of course,” Cory said, patting my hand. “You won’t be here long, but while you are, you’re under my care. Are you on any specific prenatal vitamins?”

I told him what I was on, and while he didn’t have the exact brand, he did have a folic acid tablet and iron supplement that I could take for today. He went to get them, along with a homemade electrolyte drink to help rehydrate me. He warned that it wouldn’t be very tasty, unless I really liked lime juice, but if it kept me and my baby healthy I didn’t care.

Once Cory had stepped out, Fay cleared her throat softly. "Did your talk with Ines help clear anything up for you, Olivia?"

I looked at Fay, really looked at her for the first time. Gone was the coy businesswoman and the fierce leader I’d first encountered. In her place sat a woman worn down by responsibility, by the weight of protecting her people, and in spite of myself I couldn’t help but commiserate with her.

"I figured you sent her for a reason,” I said. Fay didn’t deny it.

“Her case is one of the most violent,” she acknowledged, “the hardest to justify or ignore. And she’s able to talk about it, which not all of them are.”

One of the most violent, I thought. Not the most, just one of the most.

“It…opened my eyes," I admitted. "I knew about the issues in Eclipse, obviously, I’d have to be blind or stupid not to, but the full depth of it is…well, it’s much worse than I’d realized.”

Fay nodded, her expression grave. "Eclipse is good at hiding the worst parts of itself, even from itself. They’ve trained themselves to look the other way, to take the excuses at face value.”

“Good thing I wasn’t raised in Eclipse, then,” I said, anger sparking along my periphery. They might have brainwashed themselves into believing their views were acceptable, but I’d already seen a better world.

“Exactly,” Fay said, a wry little half-smile turning up the corner of her mouth. It made the bags under her eyes look deeper. I met her eyes, finally seeing the numbness in them from nights of sleepless worry.

I took a deep breath. Time to bridge the gap.

"I think I'd like to ask some questions."

Fay's lips curved into a small, tired smile. "I thought you might. Ask away, Luna Olivia."

The use of my title struck me, a reminder of the position I held and the responsibility that came with it. I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position on the ground, my hand instinctively moving to cradle my slightly swollen belly.

"Start from the beginning.”