Page 25 of The Honor of Being Hers (Terms of Devotion #1)

The room wasn’t large, but the attention inside it pressed in like humidity. The air conditioning hummed overhead, but it couldn’t quite cut through the weight of so many focused gazes, the accumulated heat of bodies leaning forward in anticipation.

Rows of chairs fanned out in narrow arcs around a central speaking podium, each seat claimed by someone with a name badge and a tidy notepad.

Analysts. Researchers. A few journalists.

People who lived and breathed data and policy, who watched Lauren as she entered, not like they were seeing a colleague, but a subject.

She didn’t let herself flinch. Her heels struck the polished floor with soft, even rhythm as she crossed to the front of the room, leather folder in hand, silk blouse tucked neatly into her tailored skirt, the newly mixed pack scent swirling around her steadily.

The woman who had broken down in tears under her Alphas’ discipline now stood unshakeable.

The carpet beneath her feet was industrial thin, providing little cushion, and she could feel every step reverberating up through her bones.

Tyler walked two paces behind her and peeled off quietly toward the side wall as she reached the podium.

With his perfectly styled hair and gentle hazel eyes that now radiated quiet support, it was no wonder she had fallen for him so quickly.

It was as if he could read her mind when it came to her needs, often even better than she could.

William stood just inside the rear entrance, one arm folded loosely across his chest while he catalogued exits and potential threats.

His presence was comforting in an entirely different sort of way.

Where Tyler offered her soul a safe place to land, William radiated an equally silent yet clear promise of physical protection.

Ryan’s impact on her was the most surprising.

She may have told him she wanted to move forward, but she was surprised at her ability to do so without backsliding.

Right now, he was already seated in the front row, hands folded, eyes steady.

In private, he was willing to spank her until she was able to be honest with herself and accept their dominance, yet in public, he sat prepared to defend her choices publicly, and they had been choices she had made.

No one introduced her.

There was no need. They all knew who she was.

They’d all seen the breach by now, half a page of unauthorized medical data lifted from the Omega Registry private logs, posted anonymously on a political research thread and amplified by a handful of deliberately vague, politically-motivated accounts.

Lauren Langford. Unregistered bond. Heat onset during classified research.

Possible scent conflict with ongoing institutional policy work.

No accusations. Just enough innuendo to make her reliability look shaky and her objectivity look compromised.

She placed the folder on the podium, opened it to the second page, and lifted her gaze to the room. The microphone was cool metal against her fingertips as she adjusted it, the slight feedback whine cutting through the expectant silence before settling into clarity.

“Some of you have asked who did it. Who accessed and distributed my private medical data? And while we do have a name, I won’t be sharing it here because this was never just about one person.

It was a system that allowed it. A culture that not only looked the other way, they egged them on.

That’s what we need to change.” She paused briefly before continuing.

“I’m also not here to speculate about who accessed my private medical file. That matter will be handled through legal channels.”

Her voice was calm, her tone even. The mic barely needed to amplify it, but she could hear her words bouncing off the back wall, returning to her with strange authority.

“I’m here because some of you have read exactly enough to form an opinion. And because I’ve been asked more than once in the last week whether my current bond renders my past research invalid.”

A few expressions shifted. No one spoke. She could hear the soft scratch of pens on notepads, the whisper of fabric as people adjusted in their seats, the barely audible hum of recording devices capturing every word.

“I suppose that depends on what you think bonding changes.” She glanced down once, then back up.

“If you believe it turns a person into an imbecile or a liability, that it makes them chemically partial or emotionally unreliable, then you probably don’t want me presenting at your next panel. And that’s your right.”

She paused, not to build tension, but to breathe.

“However, I would suggest this instead. If a peer achieves clarity, confidence, and personal safety without compromising their record of data integrity, perhaps the question shouldn’t be whether they’re less credible after being bonded.

Not when the same questions aren’t being asked of newly bonded Alphas.

The question should be why you ever thought Omegas had to suffer to be taken seriously in the first place, when research has clearly shown there is no link between intelligence and biological designation. ”

Movement at the side of the room, someone shifting too quickly, as if caught agreeing.

Lauren picked up the page in front of her.

“This is the declaration of my bond. It’s not a headline. It’s a fact.”

She put the page back down, her fingers remained resting against the paper, her spine straight.

“My affiliation with Ryan Monroe, Tyler Lane, and William Ayers was fully disclosed. And any attempt to use my personal medical information to cast doubt on my record is a violation of both ethics and common decency. Not to mention a cheap attempt at fueling a nonsensical political debate.”

She didn’t raise her voice, but no one looked away.

Ryan stood then, not dramatically, not in performance. Just a clean motion as he stepped up beside her. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to.

“I didn’t leak her file,” he said, hands loose at his sides.

“But I take responsibility for the risk she incurred by being near my name. If the past few weeks have made anything clear, it’s that proximity to public figures, especially Alphas, comes at a cost. One I should have better protected her from. ”

Tyler joined them next, not speaking at all, just stepping into view. William followed, silent as always, but steady, his posture angled slightly toward her shoulder. Not to shield. Just to show.

“I’ve made no request to recuse myself from any professional affiliation,” Lauren said, louder now, finishing what she’d come to say. “Because I have nothing to hide.”

She closed the folder.

“I bonded because I wanted to. Not because I was coerced. Not because I was manipulated. Because I was given acceptance and the room to be myself, and I won’t apologize for that.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was complete and final. There would be no questions, and the next time someone tried to undermine her. Well, she might just let Ryan and William take care of it; they’d probably enjoy knocking some sense into them.

She stepped down from the podium without further comment. Ryan let her pass, then followed. Tyler and William moved behind them, neither jostling nor closing in. They left the room with the same quiet composure they’d entered it with.

She didn’t rush, and no one tried to stop her.