Page 7 of Feral Omega

"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask, my tone just shy of insubordinate.

He sets down his pen and leans back in his chair, studying me for a long moment. "I assume you know why you're here."

I clench my jaw, meeting his gaze head on. "The mission was a success. We neutralized the target and secured the package."

"And in the process, Wraith nearly killed two of our own men." His voice is cold, unyielding.

I look away, my nails digging into my calloused palms. "It was a minor incident. They'll live."

"That's not the point, Thane!" He slams his hand down on the desk. "The Council is breathing down my neck about the Ghosts. They want me to rein you in, get you under control."

A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Under control? We're the only part of this fucking government that actually gets shit done. And they want to moderate us?"

My father sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks tired, I realize. "They want me to disband the Ghosts entirely."

White hot rage surges through me and for a moment, I can't even speak. Disband us? After everything we've done, all the blood we've spilled for them?

"They can't do that," I manage to grind out through gritted teeth.

"They're a bunch of nervous betas who piss themselves at the thought of uncontrolled alphas running around," my father says with a hint of disdain. "But I agree with you. Disbanding the Ghosts would be a mistake."

I narrow my eyes at him, sensing a "but" coming.

"But," he continues as expected, holding up a hand to forestall my objections. "I've managed to reach a compromise with the Council. They're willing to allow the Ghosts to remain operational—under one condition."

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Knowing the Council, it's bound to be something ridiculous, like mandatory empathy training or some shit.

My father takes a deep breath as if he's steeling himself for my reaction. "They want you to take an omega into the pack."

For a moment, I'm sure I must have misheard him.

An omega?

It's so absurd, I can't help but laugh. "Very funny, sir. But seriously, what's the condition?"

His expression doesn't change. "I am serious, Thane. The Council believes that having an omega in your pack will help stabilize the more volatile elements. Namely Wraith."

The laughter dies in my throat as the implications sink in. They want to use an omega as some kind of... what, therapy dog? For a pack of fucked-up broken alphas?

"This is insane," I growl, pacing the length of the office. "We're not a normal pack and you know it. Throwing an omega into the mix is just asking for trouble."

"I don't entirely disagree with their reasoning," my father says, his tone maddeningly calm. "Like it or not, the Ghosts are an alpha pack. And like any alpha pack experiencing discord, having an omega to rally around and protect could be beneficial."

I whirl on him, my fury rising. "Beneficial? To who? The omega they're planning to sacrifice to a bunch of unstable, dangerous alphas? Or to the government, who just wants us to fall in line and stop making waves?"

He meets my gaze unflinchingly. "To everyone. The Ghosts are a valuable asset, but you're right, you're not normal alphas. You need something to ground you, give you a sense of purpose and unity beyond just the next mission."

"And you think an omega is the answer?" I demand, my voice dripping with scorn. "Have you forgotten what we are? What we've done? An omega won't last a week with us before breaking. It's cruel and you know it."

My father sighs, some of the steel leaving his spine. "I don't disagree that it's a risk. But the Council has already made their decision. The only reason I'm telling you this now is so you can prepare your men."

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to put one through the wall. As much as I hate to admit it, I know he's right. If the Council has made up their minds, there's not much I can do about it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

"What poor, unlucky omega have they chosen for this suicide mission?" I ask, my tone bitter.

To my surprise, my father actually looks uncomfortable for a moment. "That's the thing," he says slowly. "They've chosen a rather... unique individual for this assignment."

I narrow my eyes, not liking the sound of that at all. "Unique how?"

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