Chapter Fifteen

Raven

It was a given that everyone I met after my half-bond was forced on me was either a piece of shit or a victim. They fell into one of those two categories, there were no innocent bystanders just watching from a distance. They were either full-on victims or perpetrators. It was as simple as that.

But hearing the way the guys said the names Samuel Vincent and Jeremiah Chains—the way even these strong, tough alphas and omegas, who’d taken down entire packs, still carried a tinge of fear just at the mention of their names—that wasn’t good. That was not good.

They said these men had their hands in a lot of really bad things. This wasn’t just gambling or laundering money. No, these guys were into horrific shit. They hid who they were successfully, too, making it almost impossible for anyone to catch them. At least that was how they explained it to me. But now there was a handful of bad guys and no way to find them. As vile as that was, it got worse.

They had an entire pack that was less of a pack and more of an organized crime family, one they designed and used to traffic omegas, selling them like property.

It was beyond awful, and I wanted to puke. But I needed to be strong. If I was going to make a difference, I couldn’t do it while worshiping the porcelain god.

Tyrus and my mate were planning to dive deeper, to keep investigating. They might have some information now, but not enough to stop them from harming more omegas. That was going to take a lot more.

I wanted to be there with them as they dug deeper, to help them. I knew little things—things that might make a difference in their searches. Or, at least, I hoped I did.

We’d find out soon enough.

I refused to let what information I had that could help go untapped. My memories of that time might not be the best, but they were far better than none. This was a way I could give back.

We went with Tyrus to his office. He had so many computers—although some of them, he said, weren’t actually computers. I didn’t understand how that worked. Technology wasn’t my strength, unlike my mate. But whatever the case, Tyrus and Sutton typed away as I sat there and waited to be of use.

Once in a while, they would ask me questions, and I was surprisingly able to help them with quite a few of them. Not all, as I’d have wanted, but enough.

As bad as I knew this situation was, every little thing they uncovered showed it was worse. So much worse.

The Mountain Shadow Pack wasn’t just luring omegas in, though that alone was awful. And they weren’t just selling them—again, horrible. They were actively kidnapping omegas from other packs as a way to control them. It felt like every time one of them took a breath, they discovered yet one more pack connected to them and, so far, none were by choice.

The Mountain Shadow Pack had turned their pack into a power machine on the backs of omegas from all the surrounding packs and the money they made selling random omegas from far and wide to breeding farms.

When Tyrus managed to pull up a list of “security” names and cross-referenced them, the results were nauseating. They were “security” because the people on it kept the packs in line. Every person on the list was a member of the alpha families in their pack. Every last one. No wonder the Mountain Shadow Pack had so much power. No alpha family worth their salt would allow their pack members, especially ones in line of succession to suffer.

We had to get them. We had to save them. It wasn’t an option.

Tyrus and Sutton kept finding more and more atrocities. I wasn’t sure how they got into all the places they did on the internet, but it seemed as soon as they found one good source, another was next in line. They were internet wizards.

As they looked things up, I worked hard to devise a plan. Every time I thought I found the perfect one, I’d see why no one had tried it before. Spoiler alert: because my ideas were ones that would lead to dead omegas. A strategist, I wasn’t.

From the way Mountain Shadow was luring omegas in, pretending to offer them a way out of abusive packs, to the way they outright stole omegas from other packs—nothing they did was clean. Not one thing they did wasn’t tainted. And yet, from a cursory glance, it was all on the up and up and gave back to society.

“We need to do something,” I leaned into Sutton’s shoulder, needing his warmth and his touch.

“We will.” He kissed the top of my head. “We just need to figure out how. But we will. I promise you.”

“I think I have an idea.” It was a good one, too, but I doubted that my mate would agree. He was far too protective for that.

Tyrus stopped typing and gave me his undivided attention. “And what is your idea of yours?”

“It’s simple. I’ll be the bait. I can go in and help you get the omegas out.”

Both of their side eyes were strong.

“It’s not like you two can walk in there—you’re alphas. And the omegas here have children who are still processing their own trauma. It’s the only way.”

“Absolutely not,” Sutton boomed.

“What do you mean, absolutely not? Can you think of anything better?”

“Not off the top of my head,” he admitted, “but I will.”

“Tyrus, I’m sending you a file,” Sutton said abruptly, shifting the conversation.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at.” Tyrus grabbed the back of his neck.

“I’ll show you.” And just like that, the subject was dropped.

But if they wouldn’t let me be the bait, I was sure as hell going to figure out something we could do. Because nothing wasn’t an option.

Three hours of frustration later, Pop-Tart came in to see how we were doing.

Before the guys could answer, I did. “We have a plan to run by the group.”

My mate was not impressed. I didn’t care. There were omegas who needed me, and they had to come first.