Chapter 87

Olivia’s POV

I smoothed my dress, silently appreciating the way the purple fabric hugged my hips, accentuating my small baby bump. This would be the first time I’d be outside the manor since my pregnancy became visible, and the knowledge that everyone would see that there was life growing inside of me was strangely thrilling. That wasn’t the point of our outing today, but after dreaming of motherhood for so long I figured I was allowed the excitement.

Still, we had bigger goals for today. Our outing was about more than just making a statement; it was about standing strong in the face of adversity, about being the shield for those who had suffered in silence for too long. It was about making our stance clear.

Elroy’s hand found mine, his touch both steadying and electrifying. He offered me an encouraging smile, though there was something almost guilty behind it. I shrugged it off; his Alpha instincts were probably demanding he protect his pregnant Mate, and here he was walking me into the swarm.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through my very soul.

I nodded, drawing a deep breath as I smiled back at him. It was never enjoyable facing paparazzi, especially not outside of an organized press conference, but the formal statements had already been made. Today was for informal statements, the ones that people were more likely to believe—after all, you couldn’t script a conversation.

As we crossed through the large front lawn we could hear the clamor of seemingly endless voices. Sure enough there was a sea of reporters pressed up against the gates, looking like they’d bash their way through if it weren’t for the presence of the guards. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Walking out into the hoard was instantly anxiety-inducing. It was loud, crowded, and full of constant movement, and it was only the security that granted us a thin path through. Everyone’s voices overlapped each other, and I was momentarily stunned.

Elroy’s hand tightened in mine, squeezing in silent unity, and we started making our way through. I adjusted quickly—I’d anticipated this, after all—and when I finally caught a full question I was ready for battle.

"Luna Olivia!” someone called, her voice sharp enough to slice through the noise. “What do you have to say about Ines' allegations?"

My heart pounded against my ribs, but I refused to let apprehension dictate my actions. "They’re not allegations if they’re true,” I said, raising my voice to ensure as many people heard it as possible. A few of the people closest to us seemed stunned by the statement.

“Eclipse has failed its people,” I continued, my voice steady and clear despite the chaos around us. "That’s not allegation, that is fact. Ines’ courage in coming forward is nothing short of heroic.”

“We knew Eclipse needed reform,” Elroy added, “but we had no idea the depth of our failures until Ines told her story. She, and all other victims, have my full protection and support as we work to ensure no one else ever has to suffer the way they have."

The questions continued to fly, a relentless barrage seeking to pierce our armor of solidarity. Elroy announced that we would answer all questions candidly, so long as no paparazzi followed us into the diner once we got there. “I know we’re public figures, but I think I’m allowed a dinner date with my wife,” he joked.

It was the first time he’d ever been anything but serious in front of cameras, and my heart bounced a little higher. Of course it was important for the public to see us as normal, relatable people, but more than that, it meant he was comfortable. I liked to think I had a hand in that, and the notion made me giddy.

Now that they were allowed to follow us the reporters were less frantic, making it easier to answer their questions.

"Luna Olivia, you said you didn’t know how bad it was. Can you comment on that?" a determined voice rose above the rest, its owner maneuvering through the crowd to keep pace beside us.

I glanced at Elroy, feeling his silent encouragement radiate through our clasped hands. "To be honest," I confessed, "the depth of deceit took us by surprise. We were largely in the dark, just as many of you were."

“And the council?” someone else asked, shoving a microphone towards Elroy.

“The council was just as shocked,” Elroy said. “This isn’t just an issue of litigation, it’s an issue of the culture of our pack, and being isolated in the manor kept us from seeing the full brunt of that.”

"Is there tension within the council due to these revelations?" another journalist chimed in, her pen poised above a notepad, ready to capture every word.

"Of course," Elroy's deep timbre resonated with an honesty that rang true to my core. "Eclipse is deeply entrenched in tradition, and some people are more invested in those traditions than others. But we all work for the good of our pack, and I trust in their ability to rise above and do what's right for our people regardless of personal opinion."

"Could you tell us a bit more about the White Paw Initiative?" someone called from the back. That question was for me to field.

"At its base, the White Paw Initiative—named after the former pack who took in the Omegas we had failed—is a group focused on observing and reporting inequalities within our pack. They’ll report directly to me, bypassing the flawed system we already have in place.”

It went on like that, questions pouring past in a seemingly never-ending stream. We’d expected most of them, and the few we hadn’t anticipated weren’t hard to answer. Things like how we were planning to punish with Ines’ husband, for instance, were subjects I was all too happy to talk about.

I got to praise Fay for stepping up to head the Initiative, too, which was recognition she definitely deserved.

“Will the other Omegas come forward to tell their stories?” someone asked.

“That’s up to them,” Elroy answered. “We have no right to make them talk about it any more than we have the right to silence them.”

“Make no mistake, what they have lived through is trauma,” I added. “How they heal, and when, is something deeply personal to them, and if they choose to do so in private then we expect all news outlets to respect that decision.”

As the restaurant's warm glow beckoned us closer, the tempest of flash photography and voices seemed to reach a crescendo. The reporters were realizing they were almost out of time, and Elroy had made it very clear that anyone who tried to follow us into the building would never be at an interview or press conference with us again. Amid the noise, though, one question stood out to me.

"Olivia, the public is eager to know—how is your pregnancy progressing? And your marriage?"

The intimacy of the inquiry caught me off-guard, and I faltered mid-step. It was disarmlingly personal in the middle of all these politics, and I couldn’t help but soften.

"I'm...we're very happy," I answered, the truth of it resonating through my bones. "I’m blessed to have had a healthy pregnancy so far, and a Mate as wonderful as Elroy by my side through it.”

Elroy's hand tightened around mine, a tacit vow as the cameras captured our moment of vulnerability. "I'm the lucky one," he said, his voice low and full of something nameless. The sincerity in his gaze sent my heart into an ecstatic tumble.

With that we pushed our way into the diner, leaving our security to guard the door. As the door swung shut, sealing us away from the voracious appetite of the world outside, I felt tension bleed out of my shoulders. That had been stressful, but I was pleased with how it went.

Elroy offered me a relieved smile, clearly thinking the same. He guided me forward, his hand resting gently on the small of my back—a silent proclamation, almost like a claim. I was acutely aware of the strength in his touch, the security it promised amidst the whirlwind our lives had become.

Not once during our little parade had Elroy let go of my hand.