Chapter 17 #2
“I think we should stay,” I say, the words falling into the silence like stones into still water. “I think we should fight.”
The reaction is immediate—a collective intake of breath, a shift in the energy of the room.
Poe straightens in his corner, a flash of satisfaction crossing his features before his usual mask of indifference returns.
Ares’s massive shoulders tense, his expression darkening with concern.
Cillian’s pale eyes meet mine across the room, something like respect flickering in their icy depths.
And Logan... Logan remains utterly still, his golden gaze boring into me as if trying to see past my words to the reasoning behind them.
“Why?” he asks simply.
It’s a fair question. After all my deliberation, all my weighing of options, I owe them an explanation. I owe myself one, too.
“Because running doesn’t solve anything,” I say, the certainty in my voice surprising even me. “It just delays the inevitable. The king’s reach is long, and his memory longer. He’d find us eventually, whether it takes months or years.”
I turn to face Poe, acknowledging his argument from days ago.
“And because there are others like me out there. Other Omegas being experimented on, being treated as less than human. Running means abandoning them to that fate. I can’t do that.
Not when there’s a chance, however small, that we could change things. ”
Poe nods once, a sharp jerk of his head that conveys both approval and vindication. He believed all along that this would be my choice.
“And what about the risk?” Ares demands, his voice tight with concern. “What about the very real possibility that we’ll all die in this rebellion of yours?”
I meet his gaze steadily. “We might die either way,” I point out. “At least this way, we die for something. We die trying to make a difference.”
Ares doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue further. There’s a resignation in his posture that tells me he expected this outcome, even if he hoped for a different one.
“What about you?” I ask Cillian, turning to face him. “You said you’d support whatever I decided. Does that still stand?”
His pale eyes hold mine for a long moment before he nods. “It stands,” he says simply. “If you believe this is the right path, I’ll walk it with you.”
The support in his voice, the quiet confidence in his posture, sends a wave of gratitude through me. Whatever else happens, whatever complications lie between us, I know I can count on Cillian to have my back.
Finally, I turn to Logan, who has remained silent throughout this exchange. His expression is unreadable, his golden eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.
“And you?” I ask, my voice softer now. “You said this would be my decision. That you’d abide by whatever I chose. Do you still mean that?”
Logan pushes away from the wall, his movements deliberate and controlled. “I meant it,” he says, his voice steady. “If you want to stay and fight, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Relief washes through me, though I try not to show it. Part of me had feared he might renege on his promise, might try to overrule my decision with his Alpha authority. The fact that he’s honoring his word, respecting my choice even though it puts us all in danger, feels significant.
“Then it’s decided,” I say, looking around at all of them. “We stay. We fight. We try to change things, not just for ourselves but for everyone the king’s regime has hurt.”
The weight of the decision settles over the room, heavy with implications and consequences none of us can fully predict. I’ve chosen our path, for better or worse. Now we have to walk it together.
I expect the discussion to turn to our next steps—contacting Nikolai, gathering allies, planning strategy. But Logan clears his throat, drawing all eyes to him.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” he says, his voice tight with an emotion I can’t quite identify. “Something Nikolai told me that I haven’t shared yet.”
The tension in the room shifts, focusing on Logan with an intensity that makes the air feel heavy. Whatever this is, it’s not good news.
“What is it?” Poe asks, straightening from his slouch against the wall.
Logan’s jaw works for a moment, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “The king has made an announcement,” he says finally. “A major policy initiative that’s being implemented immediately.”
“What kind of initiative?” Ares asks, his voice sharp with suspicion.
Logan’s golden eyes find mine, holding my gaze as he delivers the news. “The opening of a network of government-sponsored fertility clinics throughout Melilla. Ostensibly to address the declining Omega population.”
The words steal my breath. Fertility clinics. Government-sponsored. The implications cascade through my mind, each one more horrifying than the last.
“The doctor’s research,” I whisper, the words barely audible. “They’re implementing it.”
Logan nods, his expression grim. “That’s what Nikolai believes. And I agree with him.”
The room erupts into a cacophony of voices, everyone speaking at once. Ares cursing, Poe demanding details, Cillian asking pointed questions about locations and security. But I hear none of it clearly, their voices fading to a dull roar as my mind races with the implications.
The doctor hadn’t been working alone. His experiments—the ones that left me scarred physically and mentally—were part of something larger, something sanctioned at the highest levels. And now they’re expanding, institutionalizing what was done to me, preparing to inflict it on others.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I say, cutting through the noise.
Everyone falls silent, turning to look at me.
“Any Omegas created through these fertility clinics won’t be of age for political marriages for at least sixteen years, probably more.
What’s the point? The king won’t even be alive by then. ”
A heavy silence falls over the room. Poe steps forward, his face a mask of barely contained rage.
“You’re assuming,” he says, his voice deadly quiet, “that they’ll wait until these Omegas reach adulthood before selling them off for political gain.”
“They wouldn’t,” I whisper, but even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. Of course they would. The king, the doctor, the entire system—they’ve never seen Omegas as people. Just as resources to be exploited, as tools for consolidating power.
“They would,” Poe confirms, his eyes burning with a cold fury I’ve never seen before. “They absolutely would.”
I look around the room, at the faces of these men who have become, against all odds, something like allies to me. Ares, his massive frame vibrating with barely contained rage. Cillian, his pale eyes calculating, already planning. Poe, his usual mask of indifference shattered by genuine anger.
And Logan, watching me with an intensity that speaks of his own struggle—to contain his fury, to think clearly, to be the leader we need rather than the avenging Alpha he wants to be.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Logan doesn’t flinch. “Because I knew it would sway your decision. I knew you wouldn’t be able to walk away from this.”
“This changes things,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “We’re not just fighting for ourselves anymore. We’re not even just fighting for the current victims of the king’s regime.”
“We’re fighting for the future,” Cillian finishes for me, his voice soft but certain.
I nod, a new resolve hardening within me. The decision I made moments ago—to stay and fight—now feels inevitable, the only possible choice. Running was never really an option, not with this horror unfolding behind us.
“We need to move quickly,” Logan says, shifting into the commander role that seems to come so naturally to him. “Nikolai says the first clinic has already opened in the capital. Others will follow within weeks.”
“We need more information,” Poe counters. “Locations, security protocols, who’s running these facilities.”
“And we need allies,” Ares adds, surprising me with his immediate shift to strategy now that the decision has been made. “Not just Nikolai’s rebels, but people inside the system. Medical staff, guards, anyone who might be sympathetic.”
The discussion continues, plans forming and evolving in real-time as we all contribute ideas, concerns, questions. I listen, offering my own insights where I can, but part of me remains distant, processing the enormity of what we’re facing.
This isn’t just about overthrowing a king anymore. It’s about dismantling an entire system designed to exploit and abuse the most vulnerable. It’s about preventing a future where children are created specifically to be sold, where Omegas are bred like livestock for political gain.
It’s about ensuring that what happened to me never happens to anyone else.