Chapter 16: The Omega's Plea

Amelia's POV

My paws pounded against the forest floor as I raced home, the cold night air burning in my lungs. When our modest two-bedroom house came into view, I slowed, shifting back to human form in the shadows behind our backyard shed. My limbs ached from the transformation, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the weight crushing my chest.

One year of exile. My brother banished because of me.

I pushed open our front door, the familiar creak bringing me back to reality. The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV in the living room. Mom was still up, waiting for us. For both of us.

"Amelia? Is that you?" Mom's voice called out. "Where's Nathan?"

I stepped into the living room, and the sight of her hopeful face broke something inside me. She was sitting on our worn-out couch, a crochet blanket over her legs despite the warm evening. Her illness always made her feel cold.

"Sweetheart, what happened? You look terrible." She reached for the remote and muted the TV. "Where's your brother?"

I collapsed into the armchair across from her, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "He's not coming home tonight, Mom."

"What do you mean? Did he stay for the after-celebration? I told him to be home by midnight—"

"No, Mom. He's... he's in trouble. Because of me." I took a deep, shuddering breath. "There's something I need to tell you about tonight. About Alexander Westbrook."

Mom's eyes widened slightly at the name. "The Head Alpha? What about him?"

The words tumbled out in a rush. I told her everything—finding out Alexander was my mate in the forest, the pain that crippled me when he tried to mark Cassandra at the Luna Festival, Nathan shifting to protect me when Daniel attacked.

"And then... then Alexander said Nathan violated pack law by attacking a higher-ranking wolf." My voice cracked. "He sentenced him to exile for a year, Mom. He's being sent away because he was protecting me."

I buried my face in my hands, shoulders shaking. "Nathan saved me, and now he's paying the price."

When I looked up, the color had drained from Mom's face. Her hands trembled as she pushed herself to her feet.

"No," she whispered, swaying slightly. "No, they can't take my son away."

I jumped up to steady her. "Mom, please sit down. You need to stay calm."

But she was beyond calming. "My children," she sobbed, her thin body wracked with grief. "My two children... cursed by this... this twisted system."

She clutched at my arms, her nails digging into my skin. "And Alexander Westbrook... your mate? The same man who just exiled your brother?" Her breathing became labored, coming in short, painful gasps.

"Mom, your heart—please sit down." I guided her back to the couch, panic rising as I noticed the blue tinge to her lips. Her chronic heart condition made strong emotions dangerous.

"I have to go there," she said, trying to stand again. "I have to beg for my son."

"No!" I pushed her gently back onto the couch. "You can't even make it to the door in this state. Your condition—"

"I don't care about my condition!" Her voice rose, then broke into a fit of coughing.

I rushed to the kitchen, grabbed her medication and a glass of water. When I returned, she had slumped against the cushions, her face ashen.

"Take these," I said, handing her the pills. "Please, Mom."

She swallowed them reluctantly, her hand shaking so badly that water spilled down her chin.

"Listen to me," I said firmly, kneeling in front of her. "I'm going to fix this. This is my problem, and I'm going to solve it."

"The Westbrooks don't change their minds, Amelia." Mom's voice was weak but urgent. "They're ruthless when it comes to pack law."

"I have to try." I tucked the blanket around her legs. "I won't let Nathan suffer for my sake."

I stayed with her until the medication took effect, holding her hand as she drifted into an uneasy sleep. Only then did I move, quietly writing a note and leaving it on the coffee table.

If I don't come back, know that I tried to make things right. If Head Alpha wants to exile a Throne, it should be me, not Nathan.

Outside, I stripped off my clothes and stashed them behind the garden shed before shifting into my wolf form. The familiar pain of transformation gave way to a new strength as I stood on four legs, my senses sharper, my purpose clearer.

I took off through the woods, my paws barely touching the ground. The forest was dangerous at night, especially for a lone wolf, but I didn't care. The moon lit my path as I raced toward Pack House, toward Alexander.

Toward the man who could break my heart and save my brother with a single word.

When I reached the massive stone building that housed the Westbrook family, I shifted back to human form at the edge of the forest, quickly pulling on the emergency clothes I'd stashed in a hollow tree months ago. The guards at the gate stiffened as I approached.

"I need to see Alexander Westbrook," I announced, walking straight past them before they could stop me.

"Hey! You can't just—"

I ignored them, marching across the courtyard toward the main entrance. More guards appeared, forming a circle around me.

"I demand to see Alexander Westbrook!" I shouted, loud enough for anyone inside to hear. "I volunteer to take my brother's punishment! I'll accept exile in Nathan Throne's place!"

The guards closed in, but I stood my ground. "Is your Alpha too cowardly to face his rejected mate?" The words were bitter on my tongue, but I needed to provoke a response.

Gasps rose from the growing crowd of onlookers. Someone whispered, "She's the one from the festival..."

When the guards tried to grab my arms, I dropped to my knees in the middle of the courtyard.

"I invoke the Right of Omega's Plea," I declared, using an ancient tradition I'd only read about in history books. "I will kneel here until the Head Alpha hears my case or until my body gives out."

The guards hesitated, looking at each other uncertainly. The Right of Omega's Plea was rarely invoked, but it was still recognized under pack law—a last resort for the weakest wolves to seek justice from the strongest.

Hours passed. The night grew cold, then colder. I refused water when it was offered, refused to move even as my legs went numb and my body trembled from exhaustion.

Nathan endured worse to protect me. I can endure this for him.

Dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. My vision had grown fuzzy around the edges, my throat so dry it hurt to swallow. But I kept my head up, my eyes fixed on the building before me.

That's when I saw him—a tall figure standing at a second-floor window, watching me with an unreadable expression.

Alexander.

Even at this distance, the pull between us was undeniable, a physical ache that had nothing to do with my hours of kneeling.

Minutes later, a guard approached me. "The Head Alpha commands your presence."

I tried to stand but my legs betrayed me, buckling under my weight. The guard reached out to help, but I pushed his hand away.

"I can walk on my own," I said, though my voice was barely audible.

Somehow, I forced my body to obey, straightening my spine and taking one painful step after another toward the entrance of Pack House.

For Nathan. For Mom. For justice.