My first thought was that it was nice to sleep in late and not have to worry about attendance. So, I rested in that half-asleep phase that is so damned comfortable, not questioning a single thing about my unusual state of euphoria.

I know you're awake, Rachael. Look up and talk to me.

"Don't shout so loud, Nathan." My voice came out hoarse and cracked.

"I wasn't speaking. Apparently, this 2nd marking has fixed the issues a bit."

That took me too long to process. I shot up a little too fast as the room spun on me. I looked around. "What, no IV in me this time?"

"That pocket knife looked far worse than it was. It barely scratched you. We were far more concerned about your fall than the blade. You've only been in for a couple of hours. They've done 1 ultrasound and will do a second before they release you. No point in starting an IV since you appear fine."

I winced at the speed he spoke. "Anything else you want to cram into my head?"

"Well, we do have to tell you what happened after you fainted."

"Wait, I passed out?" I found myself grumbling. "What is wrong with me?"

"Rachael, calm down."

That did it. "Don't you dare start telling me how to feel!"

He sighed and crossed his arms. "I'm fine with you being as upset as you want to be. When I'm giving you necessary information, if you're wallowing in your feels, I can't get through to you. So, choose hysterics, I'll cuddle you and cover nothing else, but damn it, don't take your ire out on me for something you asked for."

I didn't want to apologize. This isn't fair.

Life isn't fair, babe.

I dipped my head, a slight submission—not an admission of wrong, but giving in. Don't get me wrong, I knew I wasn't right. But expecting people to be right in the head after a traumatic experience is bullshit. "Can I do both?"

"I need to be able to think if I'm talking, my love." Besides, you're not released.

I smirked at that thought. I love watching his eyes roll back in his head when he's done lost it, and he knew that too well. "Alright. Lay it on me."

"About a half dozen Condors were attacking people around the stage. They're critically endangered and way outside their habitat. We had to trap them and get in contact with someone in California to get them shipped back. The event looks like it's going to make the news in Reno, which means an interview for you if they have their way...but we do have a lawyer for press releases."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "I barely want to talk to you, why the hell would I talk to other people?"

"I'm going to pay for my hysterics comment, aren't I?" His eyes crossed. The second best thing I can make his eyes do, don't care how I get there.

"You said it, not me." I softened at the smirk he gave me with that 'tude. "But this doesn't cover the knife."

"We aren't telling anyone about that blade. Harper Jackson has been in school with us since elementary school. Lee Jackson transferred in earlier this year and was one of the guys I've given a bloody nose to several times this year alone. We picked him up later and have him down in a cell, just in case it was intentional. It's possible he was just defending himself from that vulture and lost track of the knife. As soon as you are released and feel safe, I've got to get that sorted out, so he can go back to his family, one way or another."

Of course that didn't sound good, so I assume he had a plan that wouldn't get him in trouble with the law, as we're the only connection to the missing graduate.

2 days later Lee Jackson wrapped his car around a telephone pole, drunk: just shy of blackout. He wound up a vegetable. I went to his funeral a few months back and was very uncomfortable with his mother's thanking us for paying for the medical bills surrounding his accident.

Some Alphas can wield the power of suggestion to even this degree. I know Nathan is capable, and trust his judgment.

But I have never asked if this was fate or his decision to end a threat to my life. I don't want to know. I don't need to know, but this reeks of blood debt. Kill the future of a pack, and make the remnants your dependents, right? This blood debt extends to humans, quite often.

Sometimes it is done poorly, where the dependents are often worse off than the pack's Omegas. That's getting harder to get away with, though not impossible.

~~~

They decided to keep me overnight since I took so long to wake up.

Nathan handed me my diploma when we got back home. That's when everything hit me. I bawled my eyes out for 2 hours, my words and my thoughts a jumbled mess as he rocked me on our bed.

Yes, like I was a baby. If I didn't need it so badly at the time, I would have rolled my eyes. I fell asleep on him. Nathan left me to take care of business that he couldn't delay. It was late into Saturday when I woke up alone.

Honestly, it was best that I did because I needed to sort through things. I've spent so much of my life in survival mode, it's unreal. That diploma was my key to changing everything about that. Not that the thing landed you great jobs, but that you're further limited without it. And there was one miserable week where I thought I had lost the chance to hold onto that much.

But now? This was no longer the goal. Another month and a week until my birthday, shy of the 5-month mark. At least Independence Day would break the monotonous wait—that is, if we do anything.

A little over 2 months after that would be the birth of my baby girl. I fail to see how this would make me feel like I've reached my goals.

I cried for the lack of fulfillment.

Don't misunderstand: at this point, I have a dependable mate, I've got more friends than I know what to do with. Every measure of my life comes with bonuses I would never thought to seek out.

That does not mean it's easy, and my now-realized meager dreams gave me the false sense of an effortless life that I wasn't living up to.

So, I had gone to bed in grief and was now getting up grateful. I took a shower and went to find a meal, to see what was going on while I had my breakdown.

The dining hall was in chaos. Amancia was up at the never-used podium shouting out commands. I walked up to her. "What's going on?"

"Nathan sent me on a survey of the basement levels, some time back—including the ones below the Omega's rooms. We've got a flash flood warning this morning. They swear water is splashing around down there after it rains. We're using this time to bring up everything that's endangered."

"Anything I can help with?"

"You're not lifting a thing, Luna-Ma'am. Go eat, and I'll have everything laid out for you to walk through, and give me a hand with some decisions."

I smiled, nodded, and wandered off to the kitchen.

Billie Frasier whipped up 12 separate pans of lasagna, muttering to herself, "What the fuck?"

"Do you need help, Billie?"

She looked up at me. "Can you sit and chop without cutting yourself? I'll make you something to eat while you do."

Of course, I'm messing with blades every build, so I'm nodding as I sit at the counter. "Do you have shrimp and grits?"

Our head Omega tipped her face at an angle. "What do you know about Southern cooking?"

I had to shrug. "I don't even eat seafood. I probably got some ad because my phone can't ever remember that I'm deep in northern Nevada."

"Well, how about a huge ham omelet for now?"

"Sure."

Potatoes, bell peppers, celery, mushrooms, lettuce, onions, and tomatoes. Damn near a bushel of each sat in front of me, already washed.

What was not put in front of me was the basket of Hubbard squashes. "I don't expect you to be able to force a knife into that. We use a hatchet, most often."

"Well don't expect me to have an Omega's speed, either." I picked up the celery and chopped away at that, after checking the necessary length: half at a finger-length, and the rest at a quarter-inch. The first 2 on the list I was leaving for last, as they would take me more time. Only finished a 3rd the celery by the time my omelet was in front of me.

I waited until I had finished, and cleaned up after myself before chatting and cutting. "So, what had you in a tizzy?"

"This storm chain is not likely to get here to cause flooding, and they're messing with my storage. Then they left me here to get supper together on my own. " she half-growled. So strange hearing a little woman's voice dip lower than a man's. "It's difficult to get a good meal together, alone, so I appreciate whatever help you can give me. I'm not even sure we will have room to eat in the hall after they're done."

"Well, I was supposed to help make decisions on it," I said it like I was hesitant, but couldn't help the smile that broke through my play. "But in all honesty, I've got the least experience with such things, so why haven't you been asked to help?"

"There's several layers to that: and not the one you fear, Luna. That young Gamma is our leader and needs to act like it. She needs to ask for my help, but shouldn't until she's in over her head. Who knows? She might do an acceptable job. Asking you is also natural to the pack mind. It is your house, first, and should be run to your standards, save where it crosses your mate's demands. Then there is the fact that every wolf holds onto power and gives it up unwillingly." Billie put a dozen trays in an industrial broiler oven, full of thin strips of chicken, to flash-broil them. The steaming table had a vat of simmering broth to put them in once done, to keep them from drying out. She already had the lasagnas in the larger oven when I ate.

The head Omega paused to think of how she wanted to say what else was on her mind, but didn't falter once she started, "This great experiment of handing over packs to the younger generation is about a century old. You had to exterminate leadership to gain control, just as Maverick did. That boy of yours is damned lucky his father wasn't bent on filicide, otherwise going for the handcuffs would have gotten Nate killed. Maverick wanted to win, but not at the cost of his future."

"Ok...but we're starting to veer off topic." I at least had finished the celery and moved on to the lettuce. It was half Romaine and half iceberg, so, two different methods of cutting were necessary...thankfully, not difficult.

"No worries, Ma'am."

"Call me Rachael. I've not even turned 18 yet." My protest was timed to my hacking away into the hearts of veggies.

"Alright, Rachael, but only when protocol doesn't demand it. But I assume you wanted to know if this had to do with my natural rank. It probably does. It's not easy to undo centuries of civilization overnight. I mean, most the foodstuff has been mine to control, so that's going to be a pain if I'm not consulted, but there are things down there I've never dealt with."

"Like what?"

"The wine collection. I'm not even sure that Maverick kept it up. It was the pride and joy of Alpha Silas. So, if we find his log book, we will have a good idea of what to do with it, off that, but it may need a specialist to deal with sorting it out."

"Are there any wine drinkers in the pack?"

"Call in Nate's Granny. She's got the most history, here."