Page 27

Chapter 26

Legacy

Sinclair

P enelope places the last pin in my hair, then comes to stand in front of me. She takes me in, in the dress she fitted, my hair done up with a few loose tendrils framing my face. Her expression is completely unguarded. She looks me straight in the eyes when she says, “You look beautiful, Om—” A smile flits across her face as she says for the very first time, “ Sinclair.”

I’m struck with so much gratitude for her, it’s like a punch to the throat. She was the one person by my side throughout this whole ordeal. My one constant.

I can’t help but pull her into a quick but tight hug.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.” Emotion chokes me as I try to finish. “I don’t think I would have made it out of this alive if it wasn’t for you.” My voice wobbles as tears well in my eyes.

“Oh, stop that now,” she says, equally choked up. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

We both laugh ruefully as she dabs at the corner of my eyes with a handkerchief. “Truly, what would I do without you?”

She tries to pull herself together. “You’re ready. Your alphas are waiting.” 1

My alphas.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank them either. But this is a start, I think, as Penelope hands me a stack of three flat gift boxes.

I don’t know why, but nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach as I step up to my bedroom door. Maybe because once I leave this room, the night will have officially begun, and I honestly don’t know if all of us will make it to the morning.

But as soon as Penelope opens the door and I see my alphas, my anxieties completely disappear. All dressed handsomely in tuxedos, they take my worries and my breath away.

Bishop’s hair is pulled neatly into a bun, his hair slicked down except for a few runaway curls. Ecker’s locks are swept smartly to the side, styled but still loose and free, and Titus is completely clean-shaven, making the cutting angles of his strong jaw more pronounced.

They turn at the sound of my arrival, and the looks on their faces when they see me threatens to steal my breath away yet again. It’s pure awe and devotion.

“Your . . . our mark . . . ,” Ecker breathes. “So damn beautiful.”

The deep V of my dress completely reveals the newly darkened larkspur flowers etched in my skin. When I picked the dress, I didn’t know Titus and I would bond, turning my carvings into a tattoo. I already wanted to show it off, but now I’m even more proud to let everyone know that I’m a member of Pack Cerulean.

“What is that?” Titus flicks his chin at the boxes in my hands.

“They’re for you.” I walk over to them, and they each take a box. “Go ahead and open them. You’ll need them for the ball.”

They quickly undo the ribbons, lift the lids, and for the second time in as many minutes, their jaws drop.

Paisley told me the trial alphas are given gold masks from their family Elders to wear to the ball to symbolize their successful completion of the Trials. I wasn’t going to let them show up blindsided and empty-handed, but I knew no one else was going to get Cerulean bear masks. So with Penelope’s help, I did. Just another thing I couldn’t have done without her.

“You’ve more than earned the right to wear your family’s mask.” I smile slyly. “Even if only for a night.”

Titus is the first to sweep me up in a hug, lifting my feet off the floor, and then Ecker and Bishop pile on. I laugh in pure delight as kisses land all over my cheeks and neck and shoulders.

Love.

I am so hopelessly in love with every one of them.

If it weren’t for the chandeliers being lit with electricity rather than gas, the Great Hall could be a ballroom straight from the Regency era. It’s the epitome of class and elegance.

For now.

A half hour in, I’m able to make eye contact with Merigold from a distance. She swirls her glass of wine before taking a sip—our signal that everything is set on her end. My heart races. I keep having to wipe my sweaty palms on my dress.

“Relax, baby girl,” Ecker whispers calmingly in my ear, his hand on my waist tugging me closer.

I spot the Azurite and Cyan Elders crossing the room toward a small stage in the center of the hall. Watching them glide across the floor in their long black cloaks feels like watching executioners approach the guillotine.

I try to focus on the soothing feel of Ecker’s thumb lightly stroking my side. I look at Bishop and find his calm stoicism reassuring. Just like when I turn to Titus, his sharp alertness and eyes constantly scanning the room from behind his mask comforts me. They all help steady me in different ways. Together, they make me the best version of myself.

With a renewed sense of confidence, I return my gaze to the Elders as they climb the steps to the stage.

While they made their way, others moved in the crowd. Merigold discreetly shifted closer to us and Paisley as the Beryll alphas casually repositioned themselves between the Cyans and our pack. The Berylls don’t know the details of what’s to come, but they know that Merigold might need protection, so we’ve done our best to subtly flank her. Even though they don’t know the truth about Eric’s death, after the Loyalty Trial, they’re all ready to back Merigold against her alphas.

The Azurite steps up to the mic’d lectern, and I force my lungs to take a deep breath. I can practically hear the ticking of a clock in my head.

He begins his address. “Noble gentlemen and omegas, it is our great privilege to gather with this esteemed crowd to herald in another fine generation to the ranks of the Echelon of the Lourdes Bacleon.”

I can’t imagine the nerves Merigold must be feeling right now. Inconspicuously, I steal a glance at her. Her long blonde hair hangs in glamorous Hollywood waves down her back. She holds herself tall and proud in a luxurious burgundy gown. She is the very essence of silent strength, beautiful but deadly.

She catches my eye, and I give her a small, but hopefully encouraging, nod. Her lips twitch with the subtlest of smiles. I hope she knows how proud I am of her.

“Courage, vigilance, intelligence, loyalty, and fortitude. These are the pillars of our great organization, the defining qualities that separate the noble-born from those of humble birth.” Azurite delivers his speech with genuine conviction.

As if any of this bullshit is righteous. There’s nothing righteous about manipulation, oppression, and classism. That now-so-familiar sense of injustice spirits inside me, replacing my churning nerves with anger.

“The packs we welcome today have been tried. They’ve been tested and have come back victorious. It is my great honor to announce the final score of the Trials and induct—” His voice cuts out despite his mouth still moving.

When he notices he’s is no longer amplified, he leans closer to the mic, but we can’t hear anything in the crowd. Instead, there are hushed whispers and people looking around, trying to see what the problem is.

Azurite taps the mic, and sound returns with the crackle of a speaker. But when he starts speaking, it’s not his voice we hear.

It’s Merigold’s.

A recorded conversation now plays loud and clear throughout the entire hall. Everyone stills and silents immediately, listening with intent curiosity.

“Yves, Yves?” It sounds like she’s trying to get his attention in the recording. “ Yves Alexander Cyan , you can’t avoid talking about this forever,” she snaps. 2

I look at Yves. He’s gone pale as a sheet, and his eyes are frozen wide in horror, as he must recognize the conversation.

“What’s there to talk about? What’s done is done,” Yves’s voice says on the speaker.

Merigold replies, “You didn’t have to kill him. Eric didn’t deserve that—”

“He got exactly what he deserved!” Yves shouts on the tape, and several people flinch in the crowd. His father, the Cyan Elder on the stage, tries frantically to pull wires out of the lectern, probably trying to turn it off. But that won’t work.

“He wasn’t loyal,” Yves tries to justify.

“He was loyal to me ,” Merigold argues, and Yves only scoffs.

“You can’t be loyal to a whore.” His cold sneer still gives me chills despite having heard this all before.

But Merigold doesn’t let his disrespect get to her. She presses on, carefully crafting questions to implicate him and his father. “If he deserved it, then why did you get your father to cover it up?”

There’s a communal gasp in the crowd. It shakes Yves out of his stupor, and he tries to grab Merigold, but Titus and Griffin both jump in front of her to intercede. My heart pounds in my throat. Ecker pushes me behind him.

The recording keeps playing in the background. “I wasn’t going to go down because some bitch ass alpha decided to grow a conscience. There’s no room for that at the top.”

“There’s no room for morals?” Merigold laughs over the speaker. “Well, you said it, not me.”

The recording ends.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Stefan and Yves break out in a brawl with Titus and Griffin, fists flying. Bishop and Noah jump in as people scatter and scream. There’s a jumbled mix of Elders joining the fight, trying to stop it, or fleeing with their omegas.

It’s absolute chaos.

My instinct is to run toward the fray, especially with all three of my mates’ adrenaline and bloodthirst coursing through our bond.

Titus takes a brutal kick to the chin, and it feels like I just took a sucker punch.

“ Ecker!” I yell at him as he uses his body as a barrier between me and the fighting. I pound on his back. Even turned away from me, he easily thwarts my attempts to get around him.

“I’m not letting you get hurt, Sinclair,” he shouts back, his attention on the mess in front of us.

“That’s not up to you, Cerulean, ” a familiar cold, evil voice drawls behind me, snarling our name like it’s a slur. At the same time, I feel something hard press against the back of my skull and hear the blood-chilling sound of a gun cocking.

The growl Ecker makes when he turns around to see Yves’s father with a gun to my head cuts through the chaos like an earthquake.

The sound grabs the attention of everyone still remaining in the hall. It’s mostly just the new packs and a few straggling Elders, but all their harried stares are zeroed in on me. Bishop has Stefan in a headlock, and Titus and Griffin have Yves pinned to the floor with their knees on his back. Maverick runs his hand under his bloody nose, his mask having gotten knocked off during the fight, and Paisley’s panicked gaze meets mine.

I inhale as deeply and steadily as possible under the pressure of the entire hall and the barrel to the back of my head.

“We have let this madness go on far too long. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” Baron Cyan pushes the gun harder, making my head jolt forward. Ecker’s nostrils flare. He looks ready to rip the old perv’s throat out. Bishop and Titus’s glares are equally crazed and gold with bloodlust.

“Go ahead and shoot me,” I say with a calmness that surprises even me. Ecker’s jaw clenches like he wants to tell me to shut up, but instead he gives me his trust.

“C’mon,” I continue tauntingly. “Make me a martyr. Because killing me won’t make everyone suddenly forget what they heard tonight. It’s over, Cyan. You’re done. Shooting me won’t change that.”

“Then I might as well take you out with me.” He kicks the back of my legs.

“ No!” my alphas all yell as I fall forward onto my knees. Bishop and Titus let go of the Cyans they were subduing. Noah and Maverick take their places so my alphas can join Ecker, standing shoulder to shoulder.

Titus lowers his chin as he glowers at the Elder threatening me. “Pull that trigger and I will make you watch as I carve your son’s heart out before feeding it to you.”

Cyan cackles behind me. “Empty threats. I’m not only an Elder, but a member of the council. I’m untouchable.”

Ecker scoffs mockingly. “There are no rules when our omega is hurt.”

The Cyan only laughs.

“You can’t kill her. She’s an Azurite omega!” I hear Merigold’s voice shout. I search the crowd for her, finding her on the edge of the circle that’s formed around us. Nobody moves as the crowd murmurs in disbelief. Blood thrums in my ears with every passing second

Then, one edge of the circle parts and the Azurite Elder pushes into the circle. “What do you mean?”

“She’s a descendant of Guinevere Azurite,” Merigold answers.

His head whips toward me. His mask can’t hide the pure bewilderment in his eyes. “Is that true?”

I never get the chance to answer.

The main doors and the door under the balcony burst open. Swarms of police in full tactical gear and assault rifles flood the hall.

The distraction is all we need.

My mates surge forward and tackle Baron, his gun skittering out of his grip and across the floor.

All around us, Elders are being taken down and forced into cuffs. Our pièce de résistance, what we traded the chief, mayor, and DA for. We give them all the blackmail back, and they throw these evil men behind bars for the rest of their miserable lives.

I snatch up the gun. It’s heavier than I expected, but the weight feels right in my hands.

Standing over the Elder Cyan, I order, “Look at me.” Realizing I have the gun trained on him, my alphas let him out of their hold, but not before ripping off his mask.

Pitifully, he rolls onto his back like a giant bug, tangled in his cloak, and I see his face for the first time. I expect chills or a jumping pulse at seeing this monster revealed. But instead, his extraordinary mediocrity is nothing but anticlimactic. He’s an older, crueler-looking version of Yves. Completely forgettable.

“What type of sick son of a bitch goes after an old lady?” I demand.

He tries to laugh, but his attempt at nonchalance is completely unconvincing with his eyes unable to look away from the barrel pointed at him. “My legacy will live on.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Your legacy will be nothing but that of a small, pathetic man.” I train my aim at the same place on his body where my grandmother was shot. "And no one remembers small, pathetic men."

Then, I pull the trigger.

1. “Monster 2.0” by Jacob Banks, WESTSIDE BOOGIE

2. “White Flag” by Bishop Briggs