Page 62 of For All My Effort

“I don’t know, princess. Right now, both alphas and betas are blaming omegas for the problems between the designations. They might agree to this temporary ban just to settle everyone down.”

He must have seen how angry those words made me because he pulled me close. “I’m not of agreement, princess. Just telling you what I think will happen.”

“Maybe it’ll be a good thing for omegas,” Zeke said, earning my immediate glare. “No, think about it. Right now, the other designations are blaming omegas for all their problems. We can see how ridiculous that is, but they think this is an actual solution. When it doesn’t work, the next vote to make it permanent will fail.”

“Feels like a risk,” I said.

“There’s no other choice. I’ve already left a message for our district representative on behalf of our pack, but I don’t know how useful that’ll be or if they’ve already made up their mind.”

“C’mon,” Jackson said, “let’s have breakfast first. Then we’ll try to talk everything out.”

That was what we did. I pushed all thoughts about everything happening outside of the home from my head and focused on a pack meal. There was nothing more to be done at the moment and everything was out of my control. But I was doing my best to be strong. It was easier than last night since all of my mates were present, and my instincts helped me to keep them calm.

I ate all of my serving and then snuck bites from all of my mates’ plates as I moved around to sit on each of their laps.

When I finished, I found myself on Jackson’s lap, leaning back against him. My hand was rubbing around on his chest and shoulders, just enjoying the feel of my mate.

We were all slow to get up. Slow to clean the dining room, to clean the dishes. Eventually, we had no other choice but to sit our asses down in the living room for a pack meeting.

The TV was still on, the words muted as we’d tried enjoying these last few minutes of peace from it. We all watched the video being played, a banner along the bottom of the screen reminding the viewers that the content may be graphic.

Alphas fought each other in one clip, the destruction they brought down on everything around them almost seemed faked since they were in front of a large, beautiful home with a tended lawn and even a white picket fence. The next clip were protestors, their faces covered in masks, holes cut out just for their eyes and mouth, and they were chanting something about cutting off the noses of alphas for equality. Signs depicting bloody faces were waving around and it suddenly made sense why their masks didn’t have nose holes.

“When is the vote?” I asked.

I never looked away from the TV, watching more and more protests, so many kinds flitting across the screen. Then the channel changed to something that appeared infinitely calmer but had my anxiety immediately heighten.

It was the view of whatever chamber the representatives worked in, all of them sitting, one by one voting yes or no. A little box in the bottom corner showed the number for each vote, keeping tally.

It was close. Too close.

“What happens if omegas have appointments? Doctors or emergencies? Childcare?” I hated looking at the group that determined my life. Had they consulted with any omegas to make their decisions or simply did what they did best?

“I pulled up the proposed bill,” Seb said. “It has hourly restrictions, meaning omegas won’t be allowed to make appointments before 7:00 in the morning and after 7:00 at night. Beyond scheduled appointments, omegas aren’t allowed out during that block, even with a chaperone.”

That got me up off the couch, pacing. “This is fucking ridiculous. All of this is crazy. How many of these dimwitted representatives even have an omega pack member? How can they possibly make a choice like this for an entire designation?”

“Representative Adam doesn’t have one,” Han said. There was an intrigued tone in his voice that had me momentarily glancing away from the screen. “Obviously even the omegas he’s courted have rejected him, that’s why he wants to remove the decision from the omegas’ hands.”

I was back to watching the little counter that would determine my fate. All omegas’ fates.

“There has to be something we can do.” Then an idea came to me. “Where’s my phone?”

We all searched for it, the device somehow appearing from Han’s office. I opened the masquerading social media platform, hoping the password that I remembered using was the same, and then punched the air when I was logged in.

“What are you doing?” Zeke asked. His face was over my shoulder, watching.

“I’m looking on here to see how I can help. I’m not going to sit around just moaning about how unfair all of this is.” I shook my head, my frustration with myself tainting my scent. “Obviously, holding onto hope that the media would be on my side was a bad plan. But actually taking action, that would definitely help.”

“What kind of action?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know. Something. I’m more than healed now. And even when I’m not doing anything, I’m still being used, so I might as well do something.”

The phone was plucked out of my hand, earning a growl from my chest. I stood up, using the couch cushions as leverage, attempting to go chest to chest with Jackson despite my smaller height.

“Give it back,” I demanded, my hand out for my phone, never breaking eye contact with my mate.

“Start talking shit through and I will.”

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