Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen

How naive of Oliver to think he could stroll to work without consequences a week after the ruckus he had caused during the mating ceremony. Before he could take even a single confident stride out of his room, a sudden, tight grip wrapped around his right foot, yanking him off the ground so violently that he screeched, muscles tensing and heart lurching. His head dangled, blood rushing to it with a sharp, almost painful intensity.

"The fuck…!" Oliver cursed, thrashing, trying to break free, but the rope held firm, cutting into his ankle with a burning bite.

Confusion prickled through him. Who in their right mind would set such a trap?

The answer came all too quickly. Three little figures scampered from around the corner, their short legs pumping with giddy energy. The first to speak was a girl—or at least someone who looked far more boyish than feminine.

"I told you he’d fall for it," she said, smirking with all the pride of someone who had orchestrated a perfect crime.

"He really didn’t suspect a thing. Omegas are idiots, just like Mom said!" one of the boys added, grinning maliciously.

Oliver gritted his teeth, a pulse of pure irritation flaring. He cursed the brats and their parents for their abysmal parenting.

"Hey, how’s life up there?" the girl taunted, poking fun at his suspended predicament.

"He looks like a… a Chanduhlee-ear," she added, squinting at him with a smirk, clearly referring to a chandelier.

Oliver wanted nothing more than to give them a good beating, but he knew brute force against these little mischief-makers would only get him further tangled—and probably leave him with rope burns worse than they already were. With a resigned groan, he forced himself to calm down.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm but carefully controlled, "that’s not really nice." He paused, letting the words hang, then added, “Now, I don’t know what you think this is—fun?—but if you don’t get me down right now, you’ll regret it.”

The girl’s smirk widened. "Regret? You’re funny, big guy! Omegas are so dramatic. Look at you dangling like a—" she gestured upward again—"like a chandelier. It’s hilarious!"

Oliver’s head lolled slightly, and he could feel the blood pounding harder. He gritted his teeth against the dizziness. “I swear… if you don’t let me down, I’ll—”

“Oh, you’ll what? Scare us? Please, you look ridiculous,” the boy said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Oliver’s patience snapped. He swung his free leg with a force born of pure irritation, trying to knock the nearest kid off balance. The rope held, but the movement caused the trio to stagger backward, letting him see a gap. “Listen carefully,” he said, voice tight with warning. “I can get down, and when I do… you’re going to wish you never decided to play hero today, you little pieces of shi....”

Before he could finish, a sudden, calm presence approached from the hallway. A tall, steady figure stepped into view. With precise movements, the man grabbed the rope’s coil near the ceiling, his hands strong and unyielding. With a swift tug, the rope slackened, and Oliver felt himself lowered gently to the floor, landing on his feet with a gasp and a rush of relief.

"Whoa… thanks," Oliver muttered, still catching his balance. His eyes flicked to the rescuer, who just gave a small, knowing smile.

The kids froze, unsure now, their confidence fading in the presence of someone bigger and calmer.

Oliver’s gaze lingered on the man, curious and cautious. There was something about him—quiet, capable, the kind of person who didn’t need to shout to command respect.

“Don’t think of pulling off this shit next time,” Oliver said, addressing the trio, chest still heaving.

The girl pouted, and the boys shuffled awkwardly. “We… we were just having fun!” one stammered.

Oliver shot them a warning look and then turned to the man who had helped him. “Thanks. I… appreciate it,”

The man tilted his head slightly, finally meeting Oliver’s eyes. “By the way… I’m Cassian.”

Oliver blinked. “Cassian?” He almost expected him to be an alpha, judging by the sheer presence he radiated. But something about his expression—soft, steady, almost… careful—made him hesitate.

Cassian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I’m an omega,” he said simply. His tone carried no shame, no hesitation—just quiet pride.

Oliver froze, processing the words. An omega? And yet… he looked nothing like the fragile, timid omegas most people assumed. Strong, composed, aware.

“I… I didn’t expect—” Oliver started.

Cassian chuckled softly. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Then suddenly his countenance changed, Cassian’s eyes darkened, his jaw set tight. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. “You know what pisses me off? How everyone treats omegas like we’re… nothing. Like we’re disposable. Like our voices don’t matter. It makes my blood boil.” He took a deliberate step forward, and the kids froze mid-laugh, their smiles vanishing. “And last week, during the mating ceremony… seeing you stand your ground, not bowing to them, not taking their shit?” He let the words hang, voice sharp and cold. “It made me… happy. Because finally, someone reminded them that we’re not weak. That we won’t be pushed around anymore.”

The kids shivered instinctively, eyes wide, glancing at each other. Even Oliver felt a shiver run down his spine—this wasn’t just admiration in Cassian’s voice. It was anger, righteous and dangerous, and it radiated like a warning.

Cassian’s expression shifted—no longer calm, no longer polite. Something hard and furious burned in his eyes. He looked at the kids, then at Oliver, then back at the kids again with a glare that made them shrink behind each other.

“Run along,” he said quietly.

Not shouted. Not barked.

Quietly.

And that quietness frightened them more than any roar.

The kids stumbled away, tripping over their own feet, disappearing around the corner without a single smart remark left in them.

Only then did Cassian turn fully to Oliver.

“That,” he said, voice low and trembling with restrained anger, “is exactly the problem in this pack. Children—children—already think they can treat us like shit. Because they watch the adults do it. Because they see the way we’re spoken to, pushed around, used, ignored, silenced.”

He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out through his nose. “I’m tired, Oliver. We all are. Tired of pretending. Tired of bowing our heads. Tired of being treated like broken things.”

Oliver swallowed. The anger radiating off Cassian wasn’t wild or reckless—it was cold, controlled, and frightening in its focus.

Cassian stepped closer.

“And last week, what you did at the mating ceremony? Standing up to Alpha Grey in front of everyone?” His voice softened for a second—only a second. “It lit something in us. All of us. It made every omega in this pack remember we’re not powerless.”

Oliver blinked, thrown off. “Us?”

Cassian nodded once. “I’m not alone. I’m with a group—an omega brotherhood, if you want to call it that. Quiet. Careful. Hidden. We’re done staying here. We’re done staying in any pack. All of them are the same—same rules, same abuse, same chains dressed up as ‘tradition.’”

He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp.

“We’re leaving. For good. All of us. We’re done begging for a seat at their table. We’ll build our own. Our own place, our own rules, our own safety. Somewhere a voice like yours doesn’t get punished. Somewhere omegas aren’t stepped on.”

Oliver’s heart thudded. “You’re… leaving the pack?”

Cassian nodded again. “And we want you with us. After what you did to Grey, you need protection more than you realize.”

He didn’t sugarcoat it. He didn’t try to comfort him.

“You rejected an Alpha first,” Cassian said bluntly. “No omega has ever done that and walked away clean. It won’t just be kids coming after you. Adults will. Warriors will. And Grey…” His jaw tightened. “Grey will make sure you suffer for that humiliation.”

Oliver felt a cold wave run through him.

Cassian held his gaze, steady and serious.

“You could get beaten. You could get dragged before the council. You could get killed. Or worse. Omegas don’t survive that kind of spotlight, Oliver.”

He let that sink in.

Then, softer but firmer than before:

“Think carefully. You can stay here and wait for whatever punishment they decide is ‘appropriate’… or you can choose to walk away with us. To something better. Something that belongs to us.”

Cassian stepped back slightly, letting the words hang in the air. “I can’t tell you where to find us yet. That would be dangerous. But… if you choose to join, you’ll know when the time comes. Just think carefully, Oliver. This isn’t a joke. It’s your life.”

He held Oliver’s gaze a moment longer, letting the weight of the warning sink in, before his expression softened just slightly. “Decide wisely.”

He remembered being an omega after his parents died—abandoned, defenseless, and utterly alone. Every time he had been struck down, humiliated, dismissed… every moment he had been seen not as a person, but as a tool, a body to be used and discarded. Every time he had tried to speak, to assert himself, the world had ignored him simply because he was an omega.

He remembered the men—the ones who had smiled like predators while they molested him, the ones who had beaten him until he was barely recognizable, the ones who had treated him like nothing more than an object for their amusement. He remembered the nights he had gone hungry, the times he had been left to sleep on the cold, hard floor, the moments he had cried out for someone—anyone—to protect him and found no one there. And he knew… he knew that this was nothing compared to what some other omegas endured. Some weren’t even fed. Some were passed between men, used endlessly, stripped of everything that made them human. Every. Single. Day.

Oliver’s hands clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms until they ached. A fire was building inside him, raw and uncontrollable. Anger—not the small, petty kind, but something deeper, sharper, and hotter than he had ever felt—flared through his veins. His throat tightened, his chest pulsed, and he could almost hear the echo of every injustice, every cruel word, every beating and humiliation that had ever touched him.

They deserved better. Every omega deserved better.