Page 61 of For All My Effort

“Better than last night.”

“That’s not saying much.”

I shrugged. “Who are you talking to?”

“Our pack’s lawyer. He’s reading up about publication rights. The problem is that most laws have been formed to protect reporters and media sources, not prohibit them from abusing their connections and public appearances.”

“I thought it was best to stay away from the media as much as possible. Let them just run their course.”

The look on Han’s face told me I was missing something.

“That’s not an option anymore. Go get some breakfast. I’m going to tell him to call me when he actually finds a solution.”

I nodded, finding both Seb and Zeke in the kitchen already, the former having taken over writing on the pad. Before I dove into the seriousness of the situation, I wrapped myself around Zeke’s back, careful that my hands didn’t accidentally bump or hit anything hot or edible.

“Morning,” I told him.

“Morning. I’ve made a strong savory breakfast today. Figured we’d need all our strength and energy to handle all this shit.”

“It smells delicious.”

My mouth was literally watering with how good it smelled. He had definitely cooked up a breakfast feast, which was saying something considering we always had a lot of food needing to feed five of us.

I wanted to stay in that moment. Wrapped around my mate as he finished cooking. But the temporary solace was broken when I heard my name—except not in any of my mate’s voices.

An image of me from last night was on the TV, taken from such a side angle that you could see Seb standing in front of me, blocking the other reporters from getting too close. Then the image started to move, and I watched me.

I watched as Seb pushed me into the elevator as the camera continued to get closer. It zoomed in on my face, my eyes wide, my head shaking back and forth. My lips were forming the same word over and over again, but you couldn’t actually hear me.

As the clip ended, two alphas appeared on the screen, both of them behind a desk and only slightly facing each other.

“It was more than obvious just in that few second clip how terrified the little omega was,” the first male said.

The female nodded, her lips pursed in disgust. “If my omega had been essentially attacked like that, you can bet I wouldn’t have handled it as well as this alpha.”

“Again, we’re seeing this pattern occurring of betas attacking omegas.”

Someone changed the channel as the female alpha went to agree. This new station had four people sitting around on a couch, as if they were trying to appear like they were conversing in a living room and not having a scripted debate on TV.

“It was more than obvious that she was disagreeing with everything being asked,” one of the males said. A little banner appeared on the bottom of the screen with his name and designation—Spencer O’Neil, Beta. “Look at her head shaking, her mouth clearly saying the word ‘no’ over and over again.”

“You’re telling me that you look at that video and see an omega answering questions, not one being needlessly bullied?” a different male asked, his tag claiming he was Elijah Flynn, Alpha. “She wasn’t claiming her disagreement, she was clearly afraid.”

“So what, if someone is scared, they can’t answer questions?”

“That’s called coercion.”

“That’s called bravery.”

Another channel, this one with just one person behind a desk, facing the camera. An image of a male I was pretty sure I should recognize was in the top corner. “Representative Adam has put forth a temporary bill to limit omega movement outside the Omega Compound and their respective pack homes until a vote can take place at the end of next month to solidify the rules of movement for omegas.”

She kept talking. I knew that by the way her voice was still heard, by the way her lips kept moving, yet I wasn’t understanding her words. I hadn’t fully deciphered the first thing she said. It was like I suddenly lost the ability to comprehend my own language.

“They can’t actually do that, can they?” I wasn’t sure who I was asking, but all of my mates were nearby, and I was hoping someone would answer. Anyone. “They can’t force me to stay in the house. That’s apocalyptic shit. It has to be illegal.”

“Someone has offered up a similar proposal every year, it’s never had enough votes before,” Seb admitted.

“So, it won’t go through?”

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