Page 38 of New Year with the Cartel

He crossed to me again, his hand joining mine over our active child. "I've spent weeks trying to figure out how to get the necklace without bloodshed. How to end this without becoming the monster I used to be."

"I know." I'd watched him pour over plans, make calls, and seek peaceful solutions. "That's why I trust you. Why I need to be there."

"If anything feels wrong—"

"Then I leave" I reached up, touching his face. "But we need to know, Fendwyr. About our past, about why we keep finding each other. Our son deserves to know his parents' full story."

He sighed, looking around the nursery—at the life we'd built, at the future we were preparing for. "Forty men," he repeated. "And you stay behind me at all times."

"Deal." I turned back to the stuffed animals, unable to help myself. "Now, about this wolf..."

His laugh was soft but genuine. "Come to bed, little omega. The nursery will still be here tomorrow."

???

The cathedral loomed before us, its gothic spires piercing the golden evening sky. It was as imposing as I thought it was. Even from outside, I could feel the weight of history pressing down, making our son shift restlessly within me. The massive wooden doors stood open, like a monster's maw waiting to swallow us whole. I didn't like this, but we had to do it.

Fendwyr stood by my side like the reliable wolf he was. Though his face remained impassive, I could feel his tension. Sarah and Maria, two of our most trusted guards, flanked us while the rest of our security team moved into predeterminedpositions. They were ready for anything, as was I, despite my racing heart.

"Quite the entrance you've arranged," Fendwyr called out, his voice echoing through the vast space. I could see he was trying to project confidence, but I sensed a slight worry gnawing at his mind.

Rodriguez emerged from the shadows near the altar, his signature smug smile in place. "I thought the atmosphere appropriate. After all, we're discussing past lives, aren't we?" He gestured. "Your people can stay where they are. Mine are already in position, but I don't think we want to kill each other."

As if on cue, figures emerged on the upper balconies—at least thirty of Rodriguez's followers, all watching us with an unsettling intensity. These weren't just hired guns; their expressions held the fervor of true believers. They thought they were part of something revolutionary, something better than what Fendwyr had offered. I could understand that, given everything that had happened.

"You've built quite the cult," I observed, noting how they hung on Rodriguez's every movement. Some of them I recognized—former members of our organization who'd left seeking something better. Their eyes held judgment when they looked at Fendwyr, but curiosity when they looked at me.

They were wondering what I was doing here and if I wasn't afraid of the immediate danger.

"Not a cult," Rodriguez corrected, descending the altar steps with theatrical grace. "A movement. A chance for real change. Unlike some, I don't need to control through fear." His eyes fixed on my swollen belly. "Though I see Fendwyr's found other ways to ensure loyalty."

Fendwyr growled, low and dangerous. I squeezed his hand, reminding him of our purpose here. We weren't here to fight.We were here to end this, once and for all, and it didn't have to include bloodshed.

"The necklace," Fendwyr demanded. "Where is it?" His voice boomed in the environment, making me straighten myself up.

Rodriguez's smile widened. "Below. In the catacombs. More appropriate for discussing past lives, don't you think? Follow me."

He led us toward a heavy wooden door beside the altar. As we approached, I noticed ancient symbols carved into its surface—similar to those on the necklace, but crude, as if someone had tried to recreate them without truly understanding their meaning.

The door opened with a groan that seemed to echo forever. Stone steps descended into darkness, illuminated only by modern LED lanterns placed at intervals. The contrast between ancient and modern was jarring, much like Rodriguez himself—new ideas wrapped in old power.

"Watch your step," Rodriguez called back as we began our descent. "Wouldn't want anything happening to the little heir, would we?"

I narrowed my eyes, not believing his words. I didn't have reason to believe anything he said.

Our security team followed at a distance, their footsteps creating an eerie rhythm against the stone. Above, I could hear Rodriguez's people moving to follow as well. The air grew colder with each step, suffocating, even.

"You're awfully quiet," Rodriguez observed, glancing back at me. "No questions about why I chose this place? About what I've discovered?"

"I assume you'll tell us," I replied, one hand on my stomach. "You seem the type who enjoys dramatic reveals."

He laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Oh, I like this one, Fendwyr. Much more spirit than your previous omegas. Though I suppose that's why the necklace chose him, isn't it?"

Fendwyr opted not to say anything, just as I thought he was going to.

The passage opened into a circular chamber that took my breath away. Ancient stone walls were lined with bones—hundreds, maybe thousands of skulls and femurs arranged in intricate patterns. LED lanterns cast eerie shadows that made the bones seem to move. The effect was both beautiful and terrifying. More terrifying than beautiful, though.

In the center stood an altar, older and cruder than the one above. Atop it sat a single skull, yellowed with age, with the silver necklace draped through its eye sockets. The symbols on the necklace were moving, shifting faster than I'd ever seen them move before.

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