Page 45 of Unhinged Alphas

It fills me with a strange sense of pride, knowing that she's starting to feel more at home here, with us. With me.

I don't doubt she'll try another escape, though, when she sees fit. But I'm pretty sure Thane would have mentioned it if she'd tried while we were away, so that's… progress.

We reach the main room, a large, open space with high ceilings and a massive fireplace dominating one wall. Whiskey looks up as we enter from where he's sprawled on the couch, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," he drawls, his gaze locking on me. "I'm surprised you made it out there, what with the desert not havin' a handwashing station every five minutes and all."

I level a look at Whiskey, though he can't see it behind my mask. "I'm not the one who needs to worry about surviving in the desert," I retort, my voice a low rasp. "You'd die without your creature comforts."

"Yeah, whatever," he grunts.

I smirk behind my mask. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried."

Whiskey gets back on his feet, his bravado faltering for just a moment. "Worried? Nah, I ain't worried about nothin'," he insists, but there's a defensive edge to his voice. "I just wanna know who's gonna stitch our sorry asses back together if you croak out there in the desert. Ain't like we got a spare medic lyin' around."

I open my mouth to retort, but Valek cuts me off with a sharp gesture. "Enough," he growls, hisaccent thick with impatience. "We have more important things to discuss."

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to the imposing figure in the executioner's mask. Even Wraith, who slips into the room like a huge panther, is watching Valek. Normally, he's just staring off into space.

Actually, he's watching Ivy. His pale blue eyes only flick to Valek occasionally. And when he looks at Ivy, his gaze softens noticeably. More than it ever has. I didn't realize he was capable of looking at anyone that way.

Valek drops into a chair and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. I can feel the intensity of his gaze even through the shadowed eye holes of his mask.

“The gun runner my contact connected us with confirmed our suspicions," he says, his voice low and grave. "The Council itself is responsible for the trafficking of omegas in the Outer Reaches."

A collective intake of breath fills the room, a mixture of shock and grim resignation. We'd all had our doubts, our nagging suspicions about the Council's true motives, but to hear it stated so plainly is still a blow to the others. One I've had hours to come to terms with, and I'm still simmering.

I glance over at Ivy, gauging her reaction. She sits perfectly still, her face an impassive mask as if none of this is news to her.

And I suppose it isn't. She would know the horrors of what alphas are capable of better than anyone.

"What else did you learn about the Council's involvement?" Thane demands, newly somber.

Valek nods, his fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. "They're using the facilities as a front," he explains, his tone grim. "Omegas who are deemed 'undesirable' or 'irreparable' are shipped off and sold to the highest bidder."

"I could have told you that," Ivy mutters.

We all look at her, surprised she spoke up. She's usually quiet. It's a relief to know she feels like she can talk, even if the subject matter is something I wish she didn't have to think about.

Beside me, Thane lets out a low, angry growl, his hands curling into fists. “Fucking bastards.”

I nod in agreement, my own anger simmering just beneath the surface. The Council has always claimed to have the best interests of omegas at heart, but it's becoming increasingly clear that their true motives are far more sinister.

And we're doing their dirty work.

Enabling them to continue to exist.

Letting them prey on the most vulnerable members of our society.

"We have to do something," I say, my voice tight. "We can't let them get away with this."

Valek nods, his expression grim. "Agreed," he says, his accent thick with resolve. "But we need to know who's pulling the strings behind the scenes."

"I think I can provide an answer to that question," Thane mutters, his voice rough with rage. "My father."

The room goes dead silent. Even Ivy's stoic mask falls away for a moment as she stares at him in shock.

Wraith's head snaps up, even though the big guy usually looks half dissociated during these meetings. Not that I can say I blame him. His eyes narrow, a low, dangerous growl rumbling in his chest.