I woke up alone in bed, unbound, with memories of the night before still playing over my lips as a satisfied smile. I stretched, moaning happily. All the unpleasantness of heat had left. Ben's hard fucking the night before, and I could have sworn he'd fucked me for over and hour straight, as I came and came, had killed my heat completely. I would have to thank him somehow, something better than just money, maybe flowers or chocolate or beer. I'd noticed which brand of beer he liked most.

In truth, even though I told myself that the reason I was thanking him was purely practical, he'd helped me out when I needed help, it was more than that. I wanted to buy him gifts because I cared about him. I felt flushed and happy just thinking about the big, strong older man. He made me feel so safe. Even smelling him, smelling the sex from the night before, on our sheets, made me feel protected. Where was he, though?

I eventually forced my heavy limbs up out of bed and took a shower. I couldn't stop smiling. When I left the bathroom, though, Ben was nowhere to be found. The apartment was empty. Hadn't he promised to stay by my side? He'd barely even left me alone with Tyler. That was strange.

Assuming he'd gone out for groceries or something, I got dressed in my new clothing, which was comfortable but fit nicely on my body, showing it off just enough. I settled on the couch and turned on the TV like Tyler had shown me the previous day, which was a huge mistake.

The news was on, and I was greeted with Cal Henderson's smug, smiling face in front of a microphone and a crowd of reporters, his favorite place to be. I should have shut off the TV then, but I couldn't. I was drawn in, fascinated. It was like watching a car crash. As the seconds past, the reality of what I was watching fully sunk in, and my stomach dropped about ten feet.

Cal was standing in front of my mansion. My old home. My parents' mansion.

"Today, as we near the anniversary of the attacks that ravaged our beautiful city, I'm here at the Lestrade Mansion to mourn the passing of a strong family of shifters. The legacy of the Lestrade family lives on here, as we think about our duty to protect what is left of our oldest bloodlines. The Lestrades were wonderful people. My family has known theirs for generations, with quite a few successful marriages along the way. They were kind, and generous, and most of all good people, whose wealth never allowed them to forget the plight of the common man. I miss them. My parents miss them. We all miss them, and we remember all those who have died in vain, in these senseless acts of terrorism."

My parents. My parents, who had sold me to the highest bidder as a baby. Who had kept me locked in my room for eighty percent of my life and restricted to the grounds for the rest. Who had taunted me mercilessly for thinking I had any worth beyond my marriageability. Who had given me only enough of an education to be a good omega for Cal. Who thought nothing of my happiness, and only of their own wallets and reputation. They were the wonderful people Cal was talking about.

He taunted me. Doing a speech about my parents, right in front of my old home, which he knew I had abandoned and couldn't protect without facing him. He called me out. He must have been having a hard time tracking me down, so he was trying a new tactic. He wanted me to come to him, and I was half tempted, just to punch him just to see the smug look on his face as my fist connected with it before he killed me.

He went on and on, using me, using my family tragedy, for his own political campaign. I was furious. What could I do? Any response would only give him more publicity and leave me vulnerable. He knew that, surely. There was no legal recourse, as far as I could think of in the moment, for him praising my family, and after all, he had known them. He was allowed to talk to them. It was all perfectly calculated to be justifiable, and I realized that Cal really wasn't as stupid as I'd thought. He had far more intelligence than I'd given him credit for.

He stared right into the camera, like he was staring at me. I slipped from the couch onto the floor, crossing my legs and sitting right up close to the TV, studying his face, studying every little twitch of his smile. If I had the power to shut down his campaign, if I had the power to get him out of my life completely, if I had the power just to hurt him the way he hurt me so easily...

It took up hours of my day. The speech made huge news, and after it aired, there was an hour-long program discussing it, and what it meant for the election. Then they aired it again around lunch time, and I watched the whole thing again, trying to analyze every detail. Another politician, Rebecca Gerard, who was a shifter as well but running an anti-seg campaign, gave an impassioned response that the dead bodies of our brothers and sisters shouldn't be paraded as evidence of anti-segregation efforts' failure, shouldn't be used to try to subjugate omega shifters even more than ever, but instead should be remembered as an artifact of the hate that segregation represented, a place in history we were moving forward from.

I agreed with nearly everything she had to say and was relieved that someone with power was standing up for me, even if she didn't know she was doing it. I looked her up, her policies, her campaign, and spent a few hours researching her life.

Then I went and found a recording of the speech Cal had done and watched it again for a third time, the anger that had been simmering low boiling over once more. It took everything I had not to throw my phone across the room. I hated him. I hated him more than I could have imagined hating anyone. I hated him more than I had hated my parents, more than I had hated my older brother for being an alpha, more than I hated the alpha that had attacked me in the alleyway. I had to find some way to make him leave me alone, forever. Security wasn't enough. I had to fight back, somehow.

I registered to vote. It was the least I could do, but I was working on an even better plan, trying to find a weakness. I started to dig up as much as I could on Cal, and there was plenty. It seemed like to be a politician, your life was pretty much public knowledge, completely on display. I took advantage of that, but nothing I found was nearly as bad as what he was doing to me, the psychological torment he put me through by acting like he had any claim over me still. He probably genuinely thought he did.

I finally pulled myself out of my angry spiral to check the time. It was almost six, the sun was starting to go down, and outside, it was beginning to snow. Ben still wasn’t home. I found his number in my contacts and dialed, but after several rings, he didn’t answer. I didn’t leave a message.

I was being clingy. I should just wait, I decided, and if he didn’t come home after a few more hours, I would call Stefan. It was most likely that Ben had just gotten caught up in a conversation with his friend and lost track of time. He had been watching me nonstop, taking such good care of me, that I figured he deserved a break. Everyone needed a day off now and then, and despite everything going on with me emotionally, physically, I knew I was safer than ever.

Cal would never have resorted to such tactics if he knew where I was. At this point, I thought if Cal really knew where I lived or how to reach me, he would have called again. He might have even shown up at my door. So Ben had done a good job of hiding me. All I had to do was stay hidden until the election was over, and hopefully, whether Cal became mayor or not, he would move on from me and find a more suitable mate.

The sound of a key in the lock to the front door made me jump, but I was relieved to hear Ben’s distinctive voice grumble as he fought with the key.I had a lot to tell him, a lot to vent about. I was still so furious I was nearly shaking, but not with Ben. Ben was the only person who could probably calm me down completely.

I ran to the door and unlocked it before he was able to, and then opened it and flung myself into his arms. I kissed him fiercely, and that was when I tasted it. Beer and whiskey coated his tongue. I pulled back and frowned.

"You're drunk."

He nodded, giving me a little smile, and then seemed to remember that he was supposed to lie to me and frowned, shaking his head, the complete opposite.

"Yeah...wait, no. No, I'm not that drunk. But I've got stuff to tell you, James. Y'gotta listen to me," he slurred seriously, taking both of my hands in his.

I frowned in disgust and pulled my hands away. I didn't really want to deal with him being drunk at the moment. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him like this.

"What the fuck, Ben?" For once, I didn't speak too quietly. I practically yelled at him. I didn't want there to be any chance of him claiming to misunderstand me. My voice got louder and louder as I let the anger that had formed over Cal come fully to the surface and protect me, protect my heart. "I let you have me, and then you disappear for the whole day, and you come back at night, pissed drunk? Do you know what happened today? Did you even turn on the news?"

He looked stunned, his eyes sort of distant, like he wasn't even listening to me. I growled and stormed into our bedroom, and he followed me, too adorable in his confusion. It just pissed me off more.

"I'm sorry, baby, but listen, listen to me, please," he begged. He stumbled and sat on the bed, reaching for me again. I shook my head, but let him hold my hand, because he didn't seem to be able to stop grabbing at it, pleading with me.

"What?" I demanded, rolling my eyes a little. This was so uncomfortable. I felt stupid for waiting for him all day. He might be a good man, sure, but he certainly had his flaws. I needed him sober, damn it, I needed to be able to lean on him, and instead he was pawing at me, breathing stale alcohol all over me.

"I wanna be a father," he slurred very seriously. "I'm ready, I wanna be your baby daddy." He gave me a self-satisfied smile, like that meant something, and I looked at him like he was insane.

"Did you take something other than alcohol, Ben? Are you stoned? You can't just say something like that to me. Especially not drunk."

I shook my head. I needed to make him sleep this off. There was no point in talking while he was this hammered.

"No, no, you gotta understand," he begged. "The condom broke, but it's okay because I love you, I wanna be a father!"

My ears pretty much turned off after I heard “the condom broke.” My heart stopped. I stared at him, dry-mouthed, frozen, as he babbled about how much he loved me and how cute babies were and how he was going to practice changing diapers. It should have been adorable, but I couldn't get past what he'd just said.

When time began to move again, panic set in. My heart started, only to race, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Ben. You need to leave."

He stopped talking mid-sentence and looked at me with heartbroken puppy eyes, his lower lip pouted like I'd kicked him.

"What?" he asked softly.

"You heard me. You need to get away from me. At least...at least go sleep on the couch. I can't deal with this right now."

He whimpered and threw himself at me, both huge arms over my shoulders, hugging me even though I didn't hug him back. I squirmed, feeling claustrophobic, and tried to push him off, but he was heavy.

"But I love you," he insisted pathetically. God, he was way too drunk. He was going to be so ashamed of himself, if he remembered any of it.

I shook my head. This morning, I would have killed to hear those words. I would have begged him to wrap his strong arms around me and tell me he loved me, and that everything was going to be okay. But he hadn't been there, and now that he was here, he was drunk, and trapping me. Trapping me physically, but also trapping me in a less literal sense, with a baby. I knew that if the condom had really broken, and drunk or not, I didn't see Ben making up something like that for kicks, then I was most likely pregnant, and he'd waited long enough to tell me that I didn't have much chance of stopping it. Maybe if he'd woken me up last night, and we'd dealt with it right away... but no. No wonder my body had felt so amazing when I'd woken up. He'd impregnated me. The bastard.

Suddenly I couldn't take it. I pushed, hard, as hard as I could, shoving him off of me.

"No. Go sleep on the couch, you fucking asshole. I can't look at you right now."

He whimpered, reminding me once more of a kicked puppy, and slunk off. I heard a thump as his large body collapsed on the couch, and I lay back, shutting my eyes against the sting of tears. Despite everything, despite a year's worth of hard work to build something for myself, something more than just being an omega, something more than being a womb to a child I didn't want, that I wasn't equipped to raise, I had ended up here anyway. Like it was inevitable. Fate had decided I would be a slave to my body, and there was no going back.

Sure, Ben was ready to be a father. He loved me. Good for him. What about me? Didn't I get a choice?

I could terminate the pregnancy. There were options, I knew that. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't even be pregnant.

I heard Ben start to snore, loudly, in the other room. He must have been lying on his back. I had never heard him snore that loud before, in the week we’d been sharing a bed. I guessed the drinking didn't help. Despite everything, despite how furious I was with him now, as well as Cal, and with myself, and with the world, I was tempted to go out and roll him onto his side, put a blanket over him. He was drunk, but he was my alpha. He probably needed me to take care of him. I had just kicked him out of our bed when he was vulnerable, when he was admitting things to me that probably hadn't been easy to admit.

But no. Fuck him. He got to be drunk for this. I had to be sober, with our possible child inside of me, facing all of this alone. Alone. That wasn't fair. I hadn't done this alone. If he hadn't knotted me, if he'd just pulled out before he came...

It wasn't fair of me to blame him. I had asked for it, begged for it. I remembered how I had forced his knot inside of me too, how in the moment, in that haze of heat, nothing had been good enough except for it. It was just that I needed someone to blame. Hating myself only went so far. And Ben was the one who had provided the sperm, one way or another. Poor guy. Maybe I had trapped him just as much as he'd trapped me. Sure, drunk, he said he wanted kids. But I'd never heard him say anything but the opposite while he was sober.

I started to cry. I really let it happen, I let the tears rock my body until the sobs hurt, until I felt numb all over. The emotional release was the best I could get that evening. No one would be there to comfort me. No one would be there to talk me through the options, no one would tell me that we could defeat Cal, that I never had to look at his smug face again. I had to get through till morning by myself, and so, like I had so many lonely evenings of my life, I cried myself into a restless, heartbroken sleep.