I was carrying a stack of folded linens down the west corridor when Kingston stepped out of the shadows.
I didn't stop walking. I kept my pace steady, my head down, the way Omegas were supposed to move through the pack house—invisible until needed.
"Adaline."
His voice was quieter than I'd heard it in weeks. Not the Alpha tone. Not the cold dismissal from the ceremony. Just my name.
I stopped. I didn't turn around.
"Look at me," he said.
I set the linens on the narrow side table and turned. Slowly.
Kingston stood three feet away, his hands loose at his sides. He wasn't in his formal Alpha stance—shoulders back, chin up, radiating dominance. He looked tired. His wolf's restlessness showed in the tension around his eyes, the way his jaw worked like he was chewing words he didn't know how to say.
"I wanted to speak with you," he said.
I waited.
He shifted his weight. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but I'd known this man for years. I knew what it meant when Kingston couldn't hold still.
"You've been... managing your duties," he said carefully. "Cassidy mentioned you've been cooperative."
I didn't respond.
"I think," he continued, "if you continue to demonstrate appropriate acceptance of your position, we could reassign you to lighter work. Kitchen prep instead of floor scrubbing. Something less—" He paused. "—strenuous."
I looked at him.
Really looked at him.
He thought this was generosity. He thought he was offering me something.
I felt the dead mate mark on my neck—the hollow, cold space where our bond used to burn—and felt absolutely nothing.
"I don't need your accommodation, Kingston," I said quietly.
He blinked.
"I need my son's collar removed."
The words landed between us like stones.
Kingston's expression shifted—surprise first, then something harder. His shoulders pulled back. The Alpha stance reasserted itself.
"Cassidy's authority as Luna is final," he said. His voice had gone flat. Defensive. "The collar is a disciplinary measure. It's appropriate for—"
"He's seven years old."
"He's being taught responsibility."
"He's being tortured."
Kingston's jaw tightened. "You don't understand what's required to maintain order in this pack. You've been gone. You don't see what I see."
I held his gaze. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't move.
"I see exactly what you see," I said. "I just don't pretend it's something else."
For three seconds, neither of us moved.
Then I picked up the linens and walked past him.
He didn't stop me. He didn't use his Alpha tone to call me back.
I made it to the end of the corridor before I heard him speak again—low, almost to himself.
"I'm trying to help you."
I didn't turn around.
But I heard the wrongness in his voice. The thing he couldn't name. The wolf inside him that was pulling against the narrative he'd built, restless and confused and starting to fracture.
I kept walking.
Behind me, Kingston stood in the empty corridor, staring at the space I'd occupied.
I didn't look back.
***
The second message came while I was cleaning the Beta's office.
The phone buzzed once in my apron pocket. I was alone—Declan had left for afternoon patrol, and the office was empty except for the steady tick of the wall clock.
I pulled the phone out and read the message.
*Extraction confirmed. Storm front tracking on schedule. Boat positioned far shore. Three-minute window once signal is given. Healer will be on board for immediate medical assessment of the child.*
I read the last line twice.
Johan had accounted for Kason's collar burns. For the malnutrition. For the trauma.
He'd put a healer on the extraction boat before I'd asked.
I pressed my thumb against the screen and watched the message disappear. Then I pulled the SIM card, snapped it in half, and dropped the pieces into the trash bin beneath Declan's desk.
Twenty-four hours.
I could survive twenty-four hours.
I went back to dusting shelves I'd already cleaned.
***
That night, I heard voices from Cassidy's sitting room.
I was carrying dinner trays back to the kitchen when I passed the corridor that led to the Luna's private quarters. The door was closed, but sound carried in the old stone hallways.
I set the trays down silently and moved closer.
"—not what we agreed." The man's voice again. Brock. I recognized the rough, flat tone from the Omega kennels two nights before.
"I'm aware of what we agreed." Cassidy's voice was cold. Precise. Nothing like the soft Luna tone she used in public. "And I'm telling you the terms have changed."
"Double," Brock said. "Double the original sum, or I walk."
A pause.
"Fine," Cassidy said. Her voice had gone quieter. Harder. "Double. But after the banquet, this ends. No more payments. No more contact."
"Because there won't be anything left to pay for?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
"Precisely," Cassidy said.
I heard movement. Footsteps approaching the door.
I grabbed the trays and walked quickly toward the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest.
Behind me, I heard the sitting room door open. Heard Brock's heavy footsteps in the corridor. Heard Cassidy's voice, low and final: "The lake is deep. The storm will cover everything."
I made it to the kitchen and set the trays in the sink.
My hands were shaking.
I pressed my palm over the dead mate mark on my neck and felt nothing.
Then I pulled out my notebook and wrote in the dim light:
*Cassidy and Brock. Payment finalized. Reference to "the banquet" and "the lake." Cassidy's exact words: "The storm will cover everything."*
I closed the notebook and slid it back into my apron.
Twenty-two hours until the Pack Banquet.
Twenty-two hours until the frozen lake.
Twenty-two hours until Cassidy tried to eliminate the last witness to everything she'd done.
I went to the Omega kennels and sat beside Kason in the dark. He was awake. He always was.
I braided his hair without speaking. My fingers moved through the pattern—over, under, pull tight.
When I finished, I leaned down and whispered against his ear: "Tomorrow night. When I tell you to run, you run. You don't look back. You don't wait for me. You just run."
He nodded.
His small hand found mine in the dark and squeezed once.
I squeezed back.
Then I stood and walked out of the kennels, leaving my son in the cold stone cell for the last time.
Tomorrow, we would both be free.
Or we would both be dead.
Either way, Cassidy Rose would never touch him again.
