60. Epilogue #2
I built a version of myself around that reality.
A future that didn’t revolve around children or mating or becoming what everyone expected an Omega to become.
I just existed as I was: defective and unwanted.
A cog in the military machine. Clock into work in the storerooms, then clock out and back to the Omega Division.
Then Pack Scorch found me.
A soft huff of breath escapes me as I think about the endless months of training, bruises, weapons drills, running until my lungs burned, learning how to survive alongside soldiers who didn't treat me like something delicate or broken.
"Somewhere along the way, my body stopped feeling like a faulty incubator," I whisper. "It became mine. Strong and capable."
Shade’s arm tightens slightly around me, listening.
"I spent so much of my life feeling like my body had failed at the one thing Omegas were supposed to do." My gaze drifts toward the dark ceiling overhead. "Then the world ended, and suddenly this body, the one everyone thought was useless, was what saved everyone."
The words settle heavily in the quiet nest.
"I became a soldier," I say softly. "Then I became something even bigger than that."
My chest aches as I finally come to the realization I've been circling for weeks, as if finally speaking it out loud meant I could no longer hide from the truth.
"I don’t think I can go backward now. I don’t think I can reduce myself to pregnancy after everything that happened."
Blaze shifts beside us with a sleepy grumble, still dead asleep.
I swallow hard.
"I know that probably sounds awful. Like I'm minimizing motherhood."
"It doesn’t," Shade says immediately.
My eyes sting unexpectedly.
For the first time in my life, my body feels important because of what it can do, not because of what it cannot, and I can’t bear the thought of losing that version of myself now that I’ve finally found her.
"I want Everlyn to keep giving me the contraception shot," I say quietly.
My pulse kicks harder, but underneath the nerves, there’s relief and certainty. This is right. It's how I feel, and it's okay.
"I don’t want to spend every heat terrified I’ll get pregnant before I'm ready," I continue. "And I don’t want my body to stop feeling like mine again."
Shade continues rubbing my back, giving me the grounding touch I need while I force the words out. My Beta always makes the tough things feel surmountable.
"Okay, we can go see her tomorrow morning," he says without hesitation.
Emotion catches me off guard so hard I have to look away.
"That’s it?" I ask weakly.
A faint crease appears between his brows, like the question genuinely confuses him.
"Halley, your body doesn’t owe anyone anything." His thumb brushes softly along my jaw. "And you don’t owe anybody a justification for the choice either."
My eyes burn.
"I was scared the Pack would be disappointed," I admit.
Shade’s expression softens immediately.
"We love you," he says simply. "Not your uterus. You're far prettier."
The laugh that escapes me sounds watery and exhausted, but real and endlessly fond.
Shade smiles faintly, brushing his knuckles beneath my eye before the tears can fall properly.
"You won’t have to defend this choice to anyone," he says. "Not Knox, Viper, Blaze, or even Everlyn."
My chest tightens painfully.
"If you want," he continues softly, "we can tell the others together. Or I can tell them for you, if you don't feel ready yet."
The quiet certainty in his voice breaks something loose inside me.
A deeper, uglier fear had been sitting under all of this.
After a lifetime of hearing that my only value was giving an Alpha a child, that belief is difficult to shake.
I have been worried that eventually the Pack would realize I wasn’t what an Omega was supposed to be.
That once the war was over and survival stopped consuming all of us, they would look at me differently or expect something of me I'm not ready to give.
Instead, Shade just pulls me closer beneath the blankets and holds me like I’m perfect exactly as I am, and I feel silly for wallowing in my anxiety since the end of the battle instead of just talking to my mates.
We lie there quietly after that, Blaze snoring softly beside us while wind rattles faintly against the fortress walls.
"I do like children," I say, thinking aloud against Shade’s chest. "When I see the orphans arriving at Blackgate, I keep wondering who comforts them at night or sits with them when they’re frightened. They’ve lost their homes and families, and I know what it feels like to grow up believing no one has chosen you. Everyone in our Pack has."
Shade keeps his arm around me and waits.
"Maybe one day, when the Humans aren’t such an immediate threat, we could see if one of them wants to join us," I continue.
"Give them a room here, feed them, teach them, and let them grow up knowing this Pack chose them.
" My throat tightens, though the thought leaves me warm rather than afraid. "I don’t know whether I’ll ever want to carry a child, but I can picture us loving one who already needs us. "
Shade presses a kiss to my hair. "We would love them with everything we have."
Sleep begins to return as Shade’s breathing steadies beneath my ear. Blaze presses closer against my back, Viper’s hand has stretched out to skim my thigh, and Knox’s hand closes more firmly around my ankle when I shift. All three remain asleep, holding on to me without knowing it.
I know the nightmares will come again. There will be other nights when I wake tasting smoke and remembering every person who died on that road, but I won’t face those memories alone.
My Pack will be here to remind me that I survived, that the choices I made saved lives, and that I’m still allowed to decide what happens next.
Tomorrow, I’ll ask Everlyn for the contraception shot. Someday, our Pack may welcome a child who needs a home, though that decision belongs to the future.
Tonight, I settle into the center of my Pack and let myself rest with one certainty I have never possessed before.
My body and my future belong to me, and whatever family we build will begin with choice and love. Always.