ALCYDE
The petition crumples in my fist, Hillary’s precise handwriting blurring as rage floods my vision. Three days since Sophia’s heat ended and this beta female dares question my mate’s legitimacy with bureaucratic poison.
Through the window of my office, I watch Sophia in the courtyard below, Rosita and Anna flanking her like pale shadows while she introduces them to other omegas. The way she moves—confident now, Luna authority settling into her bones—makes my chest tight with pride and something darker. Protection bordering on obsession.
The bruises I left during her heat have faded to yellow-green shadows on her throat, mapping where my teeth found purchase, where my hands gripped too hard when biology overrode reason. She traces them sometimes with absent fingers, and each time m
