Page 7 of Break Me Knot

“I shouldn't have made him come.” I thought having all our pack here would sway Hardwick.

Get her to facilitate, not impede, the progress of my requests through the bureaucratic process.

“Let's just do what we came here to do and get out of here,” Zane suggests, straightening his jacket. “The sooner we secure this funding, the sooner we can leave.”

“Agreed.” I square my shoulders, pushing my worry for Cole to the back of my mind. We have a job to do. “Let’s go charm the good Senator.”

Together, we move through the crowd to where Hardwick holds court, our bond humming with shared purpose… and shared concern for our absent brother.

“Adrian, Zane.” Senator Hardwick greets us with her politician's smile when we’re finally able to speak with her after the last beta couple wanders off. Her tailored suit probably costs more than most people make in a month, but it's her eyes that draw attention, constantly moving, never quite settling, scanning the crowd behind us for more important connections. Dr. Mercer stands at her shoulder, sharp and watchful as always, her presence a shadow made flesh. “Such a pleasure to see Pinnacle represented tonight.”

“Senator. Dr. Mercer,” I respond smoothly, though the words are ash. These women hold our company's future in their hands. Without their support, our research into the Mortalis Strain will grind to a halt. The weight of that knowledge sits heavily in my gut. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Where's your third?” Hardwick's eyes narrow slightly, her nails tapping against her champagne glass.

“Cole wasn't well. He had to head home early.” I keep my voice neutral. The Senator knows as well as I do about Cole’s history.

“Ah,” Hardwick's knowing smile turns predatory. “Perhaps what your pack needs is an omega. Or maybe another omega in your case. They have such a... stabilizing effect on alpha temperaments.”

Zane tenses beside me, his anger pulsing through our bond.

“An omega is what many packs need these days, Senator, although it pains me to admit that fewer are being born each year,” I reply, brushing my shoulder against Zane’s to let him know I feel his tension. He relaxes with a long exhale.

She laughs as though I've said something terribly amusing. “Oh, Sylvia might have one or two suitable candidates for you to consider. Haven produces such well-trained omegas, don't they, dear?”

“Omegas aren't products to be selected from a shelf,” I say, unable to completely hide my distaste. “They're people, with their own thoughts and choices.”

“Of course, of course.” Hardwick waves off my concern. “But they need a firm alpha hand to guide those choices, wouldn't you agree? Skylar especially needs to be kept in line.”

I remember the one time I met Hardwick’s omega at a charity gala. He'd stood silently behind his pack, eyes fixed on the floor, responding only when directly addressed by his alphas. I remember him being so quiet. Sounanimated. “Yes, how is your omega?”

“At home, where he’s most comfortable.” Lines crinkle around her eyes when she smiles, but there’s no warmth. “He was one of Haven's star pupils, did you know that? Sylvia does such a good job at helping them integrate into alpha life.”

Dr. Mercer inclines her head. “He was truly exemplary.”

I hate that we need people like this to support our research, and with stringent legislation, no other companies can help, not even under these dire circumstances. If I could somehow get to the President, instead of senators who rule territories like their own private domains, then things might be different.

“I would like to inquire about our funding request, Senator,” I say, keeping my voice level despite my growing frustration. The champagne in my system has already drained, but I need to keep my anger in check. “Understanding and potentially reversing the Mortalis Strain's effects should be a priority for everyone. Especially alphas. With omega births continuing to decline.”

Hardwick adjusts her perfectly tailored jacket in a deliberate manner, as if to delay her answer and remind us she’s the one in power. “The senate takes these matters very seriously.”

Mercer's laugh is sharp, cutting through the ambient noise of the gathering like broken glass. “It's not as though omegas will be the ones making scientific breakthroughs.” Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. “They have other... contributions to focus on.”

Zane's rage spikes, matching my own. How quickly they've normalized the systematic destruction of omega rights, the laws preventing them from higher education, the mandatory reporting of omega presentation. Parents face imprisonment for trying to protect their children from the system, and omegas themselves...

I remember the university I attended, where omega students once studied alongside alphas and betas. Now those same institutions have “omega-free” policies, celebrated as progressive measures for public safety.

“Our request for additional funding and researchers?” I press, trying to keep the conversation professional despite the rage in my chest. “Our preliminary results show promise, especially in understanding how the Strain affects genetic expression during fetal development.”

“We must be extremely careful about who we allow to work with such sensitive research. Omegas are so rare, after all. We can't risk any...inappropriate approaches to the problem. Your Cole, above all else, should understand how fragile omegas really are. How careful we must be,” Mercer says.

I keep my growl quiet. “We've expanded our facilities specifically to accommodate more researchers. The labs are ready, the infrastructure is in place.” The expanded facilities at Pinnacle sit empty, waiting for researchers we can't hire without approval.

“I'll bring it up at the next senate meeting.” Hardwick’s eyes fix on something over my shoulder, and her demeanor shifts. “Now, if you'll excuse us, gentlemen. Sylvia, there's Alexander Rothschild. We must discuss his pack's latest donation to Haven.”

The dismissal stings as they glide away and integrate into the circle of old money alphas gathered near the bar. Rothschild's pack and their associates are all sharp suits and sharper ambitions.

“Don’t you think they should be concerned about this?” I barely hold on to my helpless frustration and do something that could not only jeopardize Pinnacle, but every omega yet to be born. “Their apathy doesn’t make sense.”

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