Chapter 57
Cole
I don't move. I don't flinch. But I feel it; rage, cold and sharp, running through my blood like a blade. That quote. That statement from her mother . "We just want Rowan home where she belongs." As if she's lost. As if we stole her. And the worst part? That word. Spectacle. How dare they.
My hands are folded, my posture relaxed, but inside I’m seething. I keep my expression unreadable for the cameras, but I can feel the tension coiled in every muscle of my body.
They shamed her. Her whole life, they clung to the idea of her being a Beta. It made her more controllable. More convenient. More theirs.
And I’ve seen the fallout of that belief up close. I was there when her Heat hit. When her body screamed for answers and she had none. I held her through it. We all did. But I felt the pain buried under the need. The fear. The guilt she didn’t even understand she was carrying.
Because they made her believe that being anything other than what they wanted was wrong. I glance at her now. Still composed. Still sitting tall, even with the weight of that quote pressed against her like a collar. No. Not a collar. A chain. And she just broke it.
Nora turns toward me now. I can tell she senses the shift. The silence is charged, and I know she’s about to move on. But I won’t let it pass. I speak before she can.
“My turn.”
She lifts her brows, surprised. The cameras shift toward me. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, voice calm, but full of fire.
“I think it’s easy for people to talk about family when they’re not the ones bleeding for it. When they’re not the ones showing up when it matters.”
Rowan’s hand tightens in Sébastien’s. I feel Mass shift beside me. I keep going.
“The Hart family—” I pause, let the weight of that name land “—spent years polishing their image. But what they didn’t do was make space for Rowan to be who she was. Not truly. Not when it didn’t fit their perfect narrative.”
Nora doesn't interrupt. No one does.
“They shamed their daughter for not being enough and then acted surprised when she bloomed without them.”
I glance at Rowan now. Her eyes are wide, glassy, but she doesn't look away.
“I was there when she presented. When her body betrayed every expectation, she was taught to believe. I saw the strength it took to trust us. To let us hold her through her first Heat. To come undone and still stand up after.”
I exhale slowly, the heat in my chest steady.
“I consider it one of the greatest blessings of my life that I was there. That I was part of it. That I got to be.”
I sit back now, my voice quieting but no less firm.
“And now, I’m doubly blessed. Not just one, but two scent matches. Two Omegas who didn’t just join our lives: they redefined them.”
I turn to the camera this time, not Nora.
“We’re not hiding. Not who we are. Not what we’ve built. Kingston Pack is official. And as of this morning, Rowan Hart and Sébastien Chevalier are fully registered as bonded members of our pack.”
Silence again. But this one feels different. Like we just set something right. I glance once at Rowan, then at Sébastien, their fingers still laced between them. They’re steady. Solid. Home. And I want the whole damn world to know it. I look straight into the camera, voice low but clear.
“And for the record,” I say, “their names are Rowan Kingston and Sébastien Kingston now.”
Across from us, Nora doesn’t blink. Doesn’t scramble. She just nods once, slow and sure, as if she’s cataloguing the moment for what it is. Historic. When she speaks, her voice is low and deliberate, rich with that trademark grace of hers.
“Well,” she says, “I think the world just met a pack that knows exactly who they are.”
She sets her tablet aside, folding her hands in her lap.
“And I have a feeling... This is only the beginning. Well,” she says, “you’ve heard the truth from the people who lived it. I’m Nora Devane. And that’s Between the Lines .”
The screen fades to black. And just like that. The world knows exactly who we are.