Chapter 82

I kept my voice steady, in spite of the quaking in my chest. If they knew I was nervous they would pounce on me.

"The White Paw Initiative will serve as a secondary response system, focusing specifically on crimes against Omegas,” I explained. “It will not be a police force, and instead focus on gathering information and reporting crimes. These crimes will be reported directly to me.”

I looked around the room, daring them to challenge me. “This will ensure that information gets to the highest levels, so that none of us will ever be ignorant of our pack’s needs again.

“How much will this cost?” Thorne asked. “Our resources aren’t endless.”

“The Initiative will be staffed primarily by vetted volunteers,” I answered, having expected this rebuttal. “The office itself will be placed in one of the empty rooms in the administrative wing of the manor, so no building will have to be funded. This keeps both start-up and operating costs low.

“This also serves a more important purpose; these people are community members, friends and family, coworkers and neighbors. Unlike us, they’re on the ground dealing with this discrimination every day.”

I met each councilor's gaze, letting them see the conviction in my eyes. "Most importantly ordinary people have the trust of the community, which we lost a long time ago.”

"Luna," one of the councilors interjected, his voice tinged with a condescension I knew all too well. I knew not everyone would be swayed. "This seems unnecessary when we already have a police force.”

“A police force,” I countered, “that has repeatedly failed to address this issue effectively? They’ve already proven that they will not prioritize the well-being of the most vulnerable, or are you saying that they did their job adequately given that broadcast?”

The councilor sputtered. “It must have been the work of one or two bad officers,” he said. “Removing them will solve the problem!”

“One or two?” I asked, my fingernails digging into my palms as I squeezed my hands into fists. I had to control myself. “Ines reached out to the police six times, are you really saying that she reported to the same officer each time?”

There were murmurs through the chambers as they struggled to process that.

“And even if she did, are you saying that the same officer was the only one to respond to the fire? That one officer is the fire department that put out the flames, the coroner who overlooked grievous wounds, the media who never published a single story about a house fire that supposedly killed a young boy?

"Respectfully," I continued, my words slicing through the tension, "this is not one officer. This is a result of decades of leaving the pack-wide anti-Omega mentality to fester. This is the end stage of what your rhetoric has led to.”

“This,” Elroy added, “is what happens when an entire group of people is systematically treated so badly that everyone else forgets they aren’t animals.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s not?” Elroy asked coldly. “Omegas aren’t turned away from jobs because it’s ‘Alpha’s work,’ or considered defective if they don’t have kids by thirty, or denied the right to even open a bank account on their own? Most of you are married to Omegas—do you really see your Mates as being that useless?”

“Useless?!” Thorne roared. “They birth children! They create the next generation!”

“So you trust them to raise your heirs but not answer your phones?” I asked. “Did you even ask if they wanted children, or did you just decide that for them?”

“They—they’re Omegas!” one woman said frantically, trying to deny the truth of my accusation. “Of course they want children!”

“Why, because that’s what Omegas are made for?” I asked. “I’ve always wanted children, does that make me an Omega?”

“Do you hear yourselves?” Elroy asked, almost disgusted. “Would you ever talk about an Alpha like this? You’re only proving the point.”

“You can’t erase what’s already been done,” I said, “but you can help us shape the future of this pack. The White Paw Initiative is the first step on that journey.”

“The first step?” someone asked, agitated. “What’s next?”

“Police reform,” Elroy answered easily. “Law enforcement cannot be allowed to continue operating under such extreme biases.”

“Besides,” I added, “the fact that none of us heard about any of this before now is proof that someone is deliberately keeping information from us. If Ines had only reported once or twice I would believe that the officers just didn’t think it was worth reporting up the ladder, but six times, followed by a fire and a death? That’s not coincidence.

“We don’t know where in the force this corruption is coming from, how high up, so we will have to comb through it from the ground up to ensure nothing like this ever happens again. Pair that with more regular supervision and greater public transparency and we will have a much stronger system, but it will take time.”

Some councilors looked between themselves, clearly thinking about this proposal. Good. Not all of them were going to fight this.

“That’s why we’ve developed the White Paw Initiative,” I continued. “We can’t justify leaving our pack members without a means of aid while the police reforms take place. The WPI will help fill that gap.”

“Just how much of Eclipse are you going to change?” Thorne asked, glaring.

“Whatever needs to be changed,” I said resolutely.

The room erupted into chaos, a cacophony of voices clashing like thunder. Councilors rose from their seats, faces flushed with fury or pale with panic as they realized their way of life was crashing down. Their outrage felt like a living thing that coiled around my senses, tightening its grip as they argued about the sanctity of the chain of command.

"Outrageous!" one councilor spat, his words slicing through the din. "You think you can just circumvent our established order?"

“You’re trying to turn us into a second Moonshadow!”

“You’ve forgotten your place—"

"Enough!" My voice cut through the uproar. I’d had enough. The Alpha aura unfurled within me, a tangible force that rolled off my shoulders and swept through the room like a tidal wave. I could feel it pressing against the walls, bending the wills of those who dared defy the necessity of my plan.

"Forgotten your place?" I addressed them directly, my gaze locked onto each pair of eyes in turn, making sure they felt the weight of my stare. "It seems I must remind you just where my place is."

Their anger faltered, replaced by a momentary flicker of fear as they recognized the authority in my tone—a primal acknowledgment of the hierarchy they were challenging. Some sank back into their seats, while others stood rooted to the spot, their bluster deflating like punctured balloons.

"That chain of command you’re so proud of," I seethed, my words simmering with barely-contained ire, "is rotten. You are meant to uphold the law, not write it, and if you've forgotten that then I have no qualms showing you exactly where you stand."