Scottland – Waking to Herself
The birds were louder today.
Not just louder, but brighter—like she could actually hear their wings cutting through the air, the soft rustle of trees in the distance, the rise and fall of voices somewhere across the pack lands.
Scottland sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair in front of the mirror Grant had given her. A small thing. Ordinary.
And hers.
The mirror reflected more than her face now. It showed a girl with skin not quite so pale anymore, with pink in her cheeks and light in her eyes. She looked… awake.
Whole.
Maybe even a little brave.
Her heat had passed. Her body had calmed. But her heart was still learning how to beat without fear.
For the first time in her life, she had a question no one had ever allowed her to ask:
What do I want?
Grant – A Step Back
Grant watched her from a distance more often now.
Not because he didn't care.
But because he did.
She needed space. Not the kind that left someone alone in the dark, but the kind that let them stretch—let them breathe.
He'd been Alpha long enough to know that giving someone freedom was sometimes the truest act of love.
And watching Scottland walk across the garden with Wren at her side, talking, laughing softly, arms wrapped in a pretty blue shawl she'd chosen herself…
He could feel the bond between them vibrating with gentle pride.
His omega was blooming.
And he'd wait forever if that's what it took.
Scottland – The Library
It started with books.
Wren had taken her to the pack library one afternoon—an airy, quiet place filled with windows and soft chairs and enough stories to drown in.
Scottland wandered between shelves like someone discovering magic.
She picked up a book on herbal teas.
Then one on forest trails.
Then—almost without meaning to—a thin, weathered notebook titled Omega Laws: What They Were and What They Are.
Her heart squeezed.
Wren saw her holding it and nodded. "You don't have to read that one. But you can."
So she did.
She took it back to her room and read every page. And when she was done, she didn't cry.
She burned.
Grant – The Question
She found him in the garden that evening, sitting on a bench near the lavender beds. The sun was setting, casting gold over his shoulders.
Scottland walked right up to him, notebook clutched to her chest.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Always," he said, scooting over.
She sat beside him. Their arms touched.
"I've been reading," she said softly.
"I know."
Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the notebook. "I thought… omegas were supposed to be quiet. Obedient. Owned."
He turned to her, brow furrowed. "That's not law. That's control."
"But it's what I was taught."
"And they were wrong."
She looked up at him, blue eyes burning.
"I want to learn. Everything. About our world, about my rights. I want to be more than someone's mate."
Grant smiled.
"You already are."
Scottland – The Council Visit
It was Wren's idea, of course.
"The council's meeting tomorrow morning," she said. "You should come."
Scottland blinked. "I'm not part of the council."
Wren tilted her head. "Why not?"
Because omegas didn't. Because girls didn't. Because no one ever let her.
But none of those answers came out.
"I'll think about it," she said.
Later, Grant found her on the porch, staring out at the twilight sky.
"They'll let me sit in?" she asked him.
He nodded. "They'll welcome you."
"What if I say something wrong?"
He smiled. "Then you learn. But I trust you."
She bit her lip. "Even if I disagree with you?"
He looked straight at her. "Especially then."
Her heart thudded.
And she decided.
The Council Room
The next morning, Scottland stood at the edge of the wide council room, her hand tight in Wren's for exactly five seconds—until she made herself let go.
Inside, wolves of every rank sat in a circle—alphas, betas, omegas, elders. A space was left open at the far end.
For her.
Grant stood as she entered, blue eyes soft and proud.
Scottland's pulse fluttered.
But she stepped forward anyway.
She didn't speak at first. She just listened—about land, about trading alliances, about new schools for pups. She listened until the topic of omega safety came up.
Then she stood.
Her voice shook—but she didn't back down.
"In Roger's Pack," she said quietly, "omegas aren't just unsafe. They're owned. Caged. Beaten. Some don't even survive their first heat."
Silence.
She went on, her voice gaining strength. "If this pack truly stands for justice, then it can't ignore what happens to us beyond the border."
She swallowed hard.
"I'm not asking for war. I'm asking for protection. For recognition. For change."
When she finished, her hands were shaking.
But no one laughed.
No one rolled their eyes.
The room was still.
Then, one by one, the council members nodded.
And someone clapped.
Then another.
And suddenly the room was full of quiet applause.
Scottland sat down, heart pounding.
Grant reached over.
Squeezed her hand.
Said nothing.
Said everything.
Grant – The Pride of an Alpha
Later that night, Grant watched her from the edge of the firepit, where omegas and betas gathered, eating and talking and laughing. Scottland sat in the middle, her hair braided with soft ribbons, her eyes lit up like stars.
His chest ached.
Not with hunger.
Not with instinct.
But with love.
Pure and unshakable.
She was making her own place here—not just as his mate, but as herself.
And Grant knew—
When she was ready to be claimed, it would be because she chose it.
Not because she needed safety.
But because she wanted him.
Scottland – The Walk Back
She found him waiting by the path that led to her room.
Her hands were cold from the night breeze, cheeks pink with leftover adrenaline.
They didn't speak at first.
Then she said, "Thank you."
He tilted his head. "For what?"
"For seeing me. Not just my scent. Or my role. But… me."
Grant smiled slowly.
"I fell in love with you the moment you stood your ground. Everything since has only proved what I already knew."
She stepped closer.
Lifted her eyes to his.
"I'm not ready for the bite," she said.
"I know."
"But someday…"
He reached up and touched her cheek, fingers gentle as breath.
"I'll wait as long as you need."
Final Scene – The Choice Made
That night, in her room, Scottland lit a candle by the window.
Her scent was calm.
Her body was still.
Her heart was hers again.
She didn't belong to anyone.
But she chose him.
Chose this pack.
Chose herself.
And as the moon rose high and silver across the trees, Scottland leaned against the window and whispered, "I am not what they made me."
"I'm what I decide to become."
And the bond between her and Grant pulsed like a steady drumbeat in the quiet—
Not claimed.
Not bitten.
But chosen.
And that was more powerful than anything else.