Page 23 of The Honor of Being Hers (Terms of Devotion #1)

The next day, they met in the sunroom. The glass walls caught the afternoon light, throwing patterns across the polished table where Rachel had spread her materials like a war council.

Her slate-colored blazer was folded over the back of the chair, and a spreadsheet was lying open across her tablet like it was a game board.

It made for an impressive sight, especially considering she was sitting with her bare feet flat against the cool floor and her heels carelessly pushed aside.

Justin was stretched out along the bench opposite, ankles crossed, a stylus spinning idly between his fingers.

Samantha sat cross-legged on the floor with her laptop open and five documents spread in a semicircle around her like petals.

Sarah leaned against the doorway, arms folded, chewing absently on the end of a cinnamon stick she’d nicked from the kitchen tea jar.

Lauren entered barefoot, hair still damp from the shower.

She moved differently today—steadier, more grounded.

The emotional release from the night before had left her centered in a way she hadn’t felt since first presenting as an Omega.

Her wire-rimmed glasses caught the afternoon light as she surveyed the room, and there was a quiet authority in her bearing that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Her steps were silent, deliberate. No one stood when she came in.

No one hovered. They simply looked up and waited.

She sat beside Rachel, pulled a legal pad toward her, and uncapped a pen.

The paper was cream-colored, thick under her fingers, and the pen clicked with satisfying precision as she removed the cap.

The Alphas moved closer now, Tyler settled into the chair across from her, his gentle hazel eyes held a new awareness as he watched her.

The memory of his commanding authority from the night before settled her more than his usually calm demeanor did.

Ryan joined them at the table, as he protectively tracked her every movement, and William assessed the room in a way that left no doubt about his protective skills as he set down his laptop beside Samantha’s.

A warmth spread through her. She didn’t have to do this alone. They were in this together.

Lauren scanned the header of William’s notes.

“You’ve found the access point?”

William nodded grimly. “The first indications were wrong. The initial breach didn’t happen by way of a bonded Alpha request. It came through a proxy tied to an OmegaSafe internal account, Judicial Division.

Not from the research or education departments.

I traced the digital footprint back through three shell servers. ”

“The query that pulled your file wasn’t flagged because it used an open investigative protocol,” Sarah added, looking up from the legal research in her hands. “It didn’t trip alarms. But someone inside turned it into evidence.”

“Evidence of what?”

“That Omega arousal can override suppressants, which is not exactly a secret,” Justin said with a shrug. “And that you’re a cautionary tale, because that proves that Omegas shouldn’t have access to high-clearance information.”

“The more circumspect version of Omegas should stay at home, forsake the idea of having a career, and pop out babies instead.” Sarah rolled her eyes as she added this.

Lauren closed her eyes for a moment. She let the burn settle.

It didn’t hurt in the same way anymore. Knowing it wasn’t a personal attack, but politically motivated, helped strangely.

It wasn’t about her, not really. It was about what she represented and that simultaneously banked and stoked the smoldering fire inside her.

When she opened her eyes, the pen felt solid and purposeful in her grip as she wrote one word on the pad.

Reckoning.

“We go after them,” she said. “Not blindly. Not emotionally. Strategically.”

Rachel’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “My clients include three board members on the OmegaSafe oversight committee. I can get internal pressure applied.”

“I’m building the legal precedent,” Sarah said, papers spread before her. “There have been seventeen cases in the past five years. We can establish a pattern of institutional abuse.”

“I’ll handle media strategy,” Justin added. “Not about your pack. About institutional violations. Framing you as the template for resistance.”

Samantha looked up from her screen. There were shadows under her eyes that spoke of a sleepless night, and Lauren caught her glancing at her phone with a worried frown.

Family pressure, she realized, remembering Justin’s mention of manufactured crises designed to pull Samantha away from her own life.

“I can document the health impacts, stress-induced symptoms, and suppressant failures. Medical evidence they can’t dismiss. ”

“What do you need from us?” Ryan asked, leaning forward, his broad shoulders filling the space as he shifted into full support mode. The authority he’d shown the night before was still there, but now it was focused entirely on backing her decisions.

“Everything,” Lauren said without hesitation. “Money, connections, legal resources.”

Tyler let out a low breath. Not protest, relief.

“We’ll fund the legal escalation,” she continued. “Not quietly. Not through donation filters. I want our names on the filings.”

“Done,” Ryan nodded. “I’ll also have William audit every system with access to Omega files. If there are more breaches, we’ll find them.”

William was already typing. “I’ve already started mapping the network vulnerabilities. This wasn’t a one-off; someone’s been systematically accessing private files.”

Lauren took the cup of tea Tyler offered, the porcelain warm against her palms, steam rising to brush against her face with the scent of bergamot and honey. “They made my body into a message,” she said. "We’ll give them a better one.”

Sarah raised a brow. “Do you want fire, or do you want damage?”

“Both.”

The next hour passed in coordinated strategy planning.

Rachel worked her network, her manicured fingers flying across her tablet screen while Tyler drafted medical board communications with clinical precision.

Sarah reviewed legal frameworks with Samantha, who documented the cases and evidence.

Meanwhile, Lauren noticed Samantha’s phone buzzing insistently beside her laptop, and though she ignored it, it was clear the insistent messages and calls caused her stress.

Justin assembled media contacts while William traced digital footprints, his scarred hands steady on the keyboard.

Ryan coordinated resources with the focused intensity that had made him successful, ensuring no avenue was left unexplored.

No one second-guessed her. No one redirected the plan. The scratching of pens on paper filled the quiet spaces between discussion, a steady rhythm of productivity and purpose.

They followed her lead, not because she demanded it, but because they recognized it. When the first emails went out, Lauren didn’t hide her name.

And when Sarah asked, “Do you want to go public with the bond too?” she paused, just long enough to consider the shape of her answer.

“Not because I’m claimed,” she said. “Because I choose to stand with the people who stood with me.”

The decision didn’t feel like surrender.

It felt like power.

As the meeting began to wind down, Lauren caught Samantha’s eye. Her friend was staring at her still-buzzing phone with a pained expression, caught between loyalty to Lauren’s cause and whatever family emergency was being manufactured this time.

“Take the call,” Lauren said quietly. “We’ve got this handled for now.”

Samantha’s grateful smile was tinged with guilt as she stepped outside, and Lauren made a mental note to check on her later. Some battles required fighting on multiple fronts.