Page 53 of Hunting Their Omega

I hadn’t told them. Did that make me a hypocrite for being upset at their secrecy?

“It’s ready,” I announced with forced cheerfulness. “I wanted to try something special for you, so be honest and tell me how you like it.”

I placed the plate of glazed lamb chops in the center of the table, proud of my work despite my muddied emotions. I actually enjoyed cooking when there weren’t Governesses hovering over my shoulders like rabid dogs.

The aroma of spices and herbs filled the air, and I watched them scoop heaps of food onto their plates with poorly veiled anxiety. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to please them until that moment.

As they dug in, their expressions softened with pleasure, and their forks picked up speed.

Surprisingly, it was Wynn who said, “After this, I think we might have to make dinner your new official job.”

I flushed at the compliment, ridiculously happy I could do something nice for them after all they’d done. The bond hummed with joy.

Light banter and the clattering of utensils filled the room as we fell into a normalcy that soothed my lingering fears. They might not have been perfect, but I didn’t need them to be—not when we were right together.

The evening progressed, and my uncertainty returned as a hesitant look crept into my mates’ eyes.

“What is it?”

After a pause, Bishop said, “Isolde, there is something we need to tell you.”

My heart thumped in my chest, and I slowly placed my fork on the table. “Okay.”

“We’ve been looking into the Council and the boarding houses after what you shared with us. The way Omegas are being treated is wrong. It goes against the Goddess on every level. We’re trying to understand why this is happening, but our research isn’t cutting it.”

I nodded, unsure what to say.

“We need you to tell us everything, Isolde,” Bishop continued. “About the boarding houses, the other Omegas, and the Council. Everything you know.”

The blood drained from my face, and the life I thought I was living shattered before my eyes. The pieces left behind dug into my flesh and carved through my lungs. An endless barrage of abuse, humiliation, and isolation thickened my tongue. The desire to bridge the growing gap between me and my mates clashed with my shortcomings. I fought the urge to shut down.

“What are you going to do?” I found myself asking. “About the Council, I mean.”

Bishop looked from Alaric to Wynn.

“We’re going to set things right,” Wynn answered.

The silence was a cavernous beast. It loomed as I gathered my courage, finding my voice. Their request was a gift from the Goddess, a chance to make our miserable world a little safer for my order. All I needed to do was speak.

Alaric curled his warm hand around mine. “I know it’s hard, but we’re here. And we need you if we want to help the otherOmegas. We have no idea what’s happening—what it’s really like—but you do.”

I stared into his blue-green eyes, basking in the calm my mates pushed into our bond.

Trust was earned, and it was time I gave them mine.

“We’re taken from our parents at the age of six. Some people give up their children.” I kept my eyes averted, unable to hold their gaze. Alaric’s thumb traced circles over my skin. “But there are some girls whose parents try to keep them—fight for them—and the Council, well, they do whatever is necessary to secure the Omega.”

The bond pulled taut. No one spoke, waiting for me to continue.

“In the boarding houses, we were cut off from everything, including our wolves, the outdoors, and the other Omegas. It was the Den Mother’s job to ensure we bowed to the will of the Council. They did their best to brainwash us, either with manipulation or fear, until all we knew was how to serve. They controlled every second of our day.” I took a deep breath, letting the truth wash over me, allowing my mouth to form the words I’d been terrified to say out loud. “We were only tools to them—tools that had to be carefully crafted. We were bound and spelled and punished in the same breath, told that it was our responsibility to keep the world moving forward. We were no better than slaves.”

“What do you mean spelled?” Wynn asked, leaning over the table.

“We were given tonics in the medical facilities. They were potions to strengthen the barrier between us and our wolves.Sometimes, they were to punish us and make us more docile. I didn’t really know what was in them. No one did. The Governess never told us anything, and we weren’t allowed to ask questions. Our obedience was expected. When an Omega refused to take them, she was held down, forced, and locked away in the reformation cells for weeks. Eventually, we just gave up.”

The temperature in the room dropped, and I shivered.

“Fated mates exist,” I murmured, looking out the window. “I could have grown up in a pack. I could have been free and still met all of you.” I turned, meeting their eyes. “Why wouldn’t they let us? Why was it so important to keep us small and weak, to starve our bodies? Separate us from our wolves until some can’t even feel theirs. What’s the point?”

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