He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees
We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said "I'll love her 'til I die"
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

• • •

meanwhile . . .

l u c k y

"I know you miss your sister, Lucky," Kay was telling me for the umpteenth time in the past two-and-a-half-months. "But you know how it is when Andy's made a decision. If you keep pushing him on it, you're going to get more than just this next time." She presses her thumb gently against the deep gash in my waist.

I breathed in sharply through my shuttering tears, the still-healing cut against my skin being a reminder of my constant begging. He had finally turned on me and lashed out, then told me to use this as a warning next time I wanted to challenge his decision.

I didn't want to challenge his decision, I just wanted my sister back.

I wanted Rivera home again. Was she even alive?

Was she even out there?

The door slammed open and my Chosen stood there with a pale look on her face. "You guys may want to come downstairs. Andy's in a rage again."

"Why?" I mumbled, sniffling and looking up at her beautiful face.

She grimaced. "Because his grandfather is here."

• • •

r i v e r a

My ears were ringing as the glass shattered around me in tiny pieces. My sensitive hearing had caught every single sound — from the first crack of glass to the explosion of shattered bits that followed.

A surprised yelp escaped Zaria as she jerked away from the bed as the window shards sliced through my skin and flew toward her. They hit the wall and fell to the carpet quietly.

I didn't bother to check my wounds as I tossed the blankets off of me and crawled across the mattress, slicing my knees in the process. "Zaria? Are you okay?"

She peeked up at me and reared back, her face coiled with shock. "Am I okay? You're cut, Rivera, everywhere!"

My head dropped and I peered at my arms and legs, then looked back at the bed and saw smeared bright red stains on the sheets. Ugh. That'll be an embarrassing story to tell Princeton later, but luckily I don't have to use the period excuse.

"I'm fine," I assured her as I got out of bed and tugged her up. Flares of stinging heat raced up my arm when I touched her, causing me to wince. "We need to—"

"What's going on?" The door slammed open to reveal Costa and Hermès, stiff and ready to attack at any given word. "Did someone break in?"

"We don't know," Zaria said, grabbing my hips and urging me toward the two. "Get her out of here and somewhere else. If it's an attack be it from one of ours, a stupid kid, or even the Gonzales, I do not want her to be here when we find out."

The Gonzales? My lips parted to ask who they were, but strangled whimpers of pain came out when Costa wrapped her arms around my pain-induced body and started moving me from the bedroom.

My natural urge was to figure the situation out despite my heat, but I was too weak. My heat was peaking and when a heat peaks it pummels the body so badly that daily functions are hard to manage. I just wanted to sleep. Or have lots of sex.

Both seemed pleasant in my foggy mind.

I may have passed out for a while, because when I woke again I was in my own bedroom. I could hear the ever familiar snarls of a certain male as Lana's soft voice rose into the mix.

"The Gonzales knew what they were doing, mamá," Princeton growled, his breathing hard and strangled. "That mutt of an alpha knew I found my Mate at the convention, and now he's using it against us. el hijo de puta!" He snarled, followed by a loud slam [ motherfu*ker! ].

"Vas a caminar agujeros en el suelo. Stop cursing and keep it down, you mutt!" Lana snapped, then I heard a smack and a low growl [ you're going to walk holes into the floor ].

"¿me acabas de gruñir?" The older woman demanded, followed by another smack. "I am your mother! You do not growl at me!" [ did you just growl at me? ].

Silence. Then like a scolded child, Princeton mumbled, "Sorry, Mamá."

A small wheeze escaped my lungs as my body tried to muster up a weak laugh. Both heads turned to me and I opened my eyes to find them both staring at me, Lana's hands on her hips with a rolled up magazine in her hand.

"Dime, Rivera, ¿de qué te ríes?" Lana continued in Spanish, narrowing her eyes to slits. My eyes widened at her words, and though I did not know quite what they meant, I could most definitely sense the tone [ Pray tell me, Rivera, what you are laughing at? ].

"She's laughing at us, Mamá," Princeton responded, huffing quietly under his breath and smirking slightly at me with a glint in his eye. "She finds us funny, even now."

"Who wouldn't?" I murmured as I sat up, wincing at the pain that poked and prodded at my body in response of my movements. "Why do I keep passing out?"

"Because you push yourself," Princeton responded in a "duh" tone. I shot him a scowl, to which he shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, and you're in heat right now. That's another factor," he added with a grimace.

"Who are the Gonzales?"

Lana and Princeton both froze, and they shared glances of unease. "How do you know about them?" he asked carefully. "In fact, how do you even know that name at all?" his voice was indeed careful, but I could sense the impending warning behind those words.

Red flags flared in front of me like wind was about to tear them off the poles. I bit my lip and I responded, "Zaria mentioned them after your window broke. She thought they could have done it."

"I'll kill her in her sleep," Princeton muttered, clenching his fists. "She had no reason —"

"She had every reason, Princeton, and you know it," Lana interrupted her son quietly. "Because She was right.

"Rivera doesn't need to be involved in this."

"Um, hi." I raised my hand and watched as they looked over at me again. Princeton's eyes were glazed over with gold, and I ignored the throb that went through my pelvis. "I'm gonna need you to stop talking about me like I'm not here. Princeton, yes, hi, hon, I'm already involved. Being your mate pretty much opens a lot of doors with skeletons in them. Might as well drag them out and show them to me."

"Smart girl," Lana mused, resting against the edge of the desk with her arms crossed. She smiled at me then nodded at Princeton, her smile dropping to a grim line. "Tell her."

Princeton hesitated, turning his head to his mother. The two stared at one another, as if having a silent conversation. The mind link. They were mind-linking one another. Felines . . . We didn't get that blessing. Our "mind-link" was a series of emotions we could feel. If one Clan member is feeling a certain emotion strong enough, the rest of us can feel, identify, and respond accordingly to it. But only Denari's and their mates can actually mind-speak, but Andy never did with me. His walls were always sealed shut. He never let me in.

Not once. My mind was always so . . . Silent. I hated it.

Lana's lips twitched in a smile, but she caught me staring and blinked at her son gently. "She deserves to know," she told him softly.

Princeton sighed, reaching up and tangling his fingers through his hair as he turned back to me again. He pulled the chair of the desk out and sat on it next to the bed. "Wolves have many different rankings. Do you know what they are?"

Assuming this question had something to do with the Gonzales at some point, I decided to go with it. "Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon are the five top rankings. Alpha being the highest, and Epsilon being there if the first four are dead." The thought made me shiver, especially if Princeton were to ever have that happen.

"And what's the lowest ranking?"

I stared. "Omega."

"Right. But what are Omegas to wolves?"

"The punching bag, the last to eat, the lowest on the pecking order," I replied, trying to mask the disgust. I've always hated the way wolves ranked their members.

"Wrong. Well, yes, in real wolves and in our ancient ancestors," he corrected, sliding his hand out and lacing his fingers through mine. The touch sent indescribable pains through my entire body, but I stayed quiet. "One hundred and thirty years ago, the Omega's began dying out. It started slowly, slowly enough that it did not make a ripple in packs across the world. Nothing seemed off." His eyes flickered. "During the Great Depression, when food was as bad as it was, and jobs were as little as they were, the Omegas started dying quicker. Packs couldn't afford to feed most of their members, and since Omegas then were to eat last, they never got to eat at all."

His lips formed into a thin line. "By 1975, all that was left of the Omegas were one for each pack, two if they were lucky. A pack of fifteen can have up to five omegas. A pack holding three hundred can have one hundred omegas. A pack of fifteen by 1979 had no omegas. A pack of three hundred had one. They figured out why."

I tilted my head at him, my heart racing when his fingers began to tease the skin of my fingers, the indents that defined me.

"Omegas were the heart and soul of the pack," he started quietly, his eyes never leaving mine as he spoke, "Not the Alphas. Sure, we led the pack and told them what to do, where to go, and so on. But Omegas were always discredited for the real power they had in packs. They were a precious source of gentle nature, understanding, and ease. An Omega could walk into a room of angry Alphas and calm them down with a simple movement. They were peaceful creatures, meant for keeping wars from occurring when possible, and to keep the snarling beasts at bay. They were known for their hospitality, their ability to take the brunt of anger when they shouldn't have to, and the respectable easiness of forgiving.

"Yet somewhere along the way, we forgot that. We forgot how precious they were, how they were the ones, not Alphas and Betas, who kept peace. Peace treaties were only doable because an Omega could convince them it was needed. Only an Omega could listen . . . Just listen . . . And not hold any sort of anger later. An Omega was our life, our growth, our food. And we forgot it. And we took advantage of it."

He looked at me with his head lowered. "And we ruined it."

My heart dropped at how guilty he sounded. It wasn't his fault, why is he taking the weight of a mistake he did not make? I squeezed his fingers, a smile being rewarded to me afterward.

"In 1980, only then, did the Council finally see how the lack of Omega presence was causing harm to the pack. Alphas were not finding their mates, which are in most cases Omega females, and if they did, they were rejected in place of a supposedly headstrong female. She did not help his beast. She did not keep him from going into war. She did not keep him from dying early. The Council stepped in and reminded us of our history, procuring that if an Alpha male were to find an Omega mate, he would not be allowed by law to reject her."

"Okay, I see how they were trying to help but . . . " I trailed off quietly, not sure what to say. I wouldn't want Princeton to force himself to have to be with me. Imagining the desire to reject me hurt, it felt like a stab in my heart, but at the same time . . .

"Exactly. Most were pleased with this. In fact, the Omega's started making a return a year later. More were being born via the Alpha and Omega mated pairing. Peace started to increase and violence decreased. Packs were growing instead of dwindling, and mated pairs were easier to find. Omegas are slowly returning and are using their abilities to smooth out the creases we caused years ago our packs."

"I am one of those Omegas," Lana said, causing my eyes to drift toward the woman. She had a distant, misty glaze over her eyes but she smiled sadly at me. "Alejandro was so angry at first." She laughed softly. "This was before the law of course, and we were teenagers when we felt the bond. He threw a fit to his father, who told him to man up and try a relationship with me."

"And?" I said softly.

Her smile was sad. "A story for another time. Just know it ended well."

Princeton turned his gaze to me. His hand squeezed mine yet again as he continued the history lesson, "Unfortunately, the Gonzales have always been a bit of a . . . Traditional pack. They used to be great allies to us, and their members share lineage and relations to my family. It all roots from two brothers who migrated to early colonial times in America from Mexico, and both decided to start separate packs with very close relations. It lasted years. Until my father took my mother as his mate as my grandfather ordered him to do. At first, my father was resistant. Then he fell in love."

Lana smirked and held up her thumb. "Right under the thumb, Rivera. He was so lovesick by the time I was done with him."

I smirked back at her a little and Princeton snorted. "Despite the successful union, the Gonzales took the acceptance as a sign of betrayal. They were so offended and that they took up the ultimate form of revenge."

"And what is it?" I asked him, watching his eyes flicker with uneasiness. Whatever it was that flared in his eyes, I knew I wouldn't like it. Whatever he was about to tell me, it was more than likely the reason he kept them from me at first.

"Princeton?" Now I was nervous. He cranes his neck and looked at his mother with pleading eyes, to which she simply watched him. "You're scaring me a little."

He turned his head back to me and tightened his grip on me. "An oath was made on the night of the ceremony that they would never attack my mother or my father for the bond they had. Sadly, the loopholes were not checked. They agreed, but they made their own oath."

"Yes?" I whispered.

"On that very night, they made the oath to kill the first born son's mate as revenge and blood betrayal. They swore on the red moon that they would spread her blood across their territory as a message to never cross or betray their family."

"Rivera," Lana started softly, "your life is at stake. They aren't after Princeton or the pack. They are hunting you."

• • •

oops.