Page 177 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

Jackson bent, grabbed his pants from the floor, and pulled them on with quick, efficient movements. He tossed Thomas’s pants at his crotch so the older man could cover himself.

I understood why. Jackson didn’t want me to see that part of his father.

The hall stayed deathly quiet as Thomas yanked the pants on, movements jerky with humiliation.

Jackson straightened, power rolling off him in waves. The new alpha. He didn’t raise his voice, but every word carried.

“First,” he said, gaze sweeping the room, “we open a full investigation into pack business. All financial records, tithes, properties, and any involvement in extortion or trafficking. The pack legal team will run it under my direct oversight. No more secrets.”

A ripple moved through the crowd. Some faces showed open relief. Others, the implicated and the older anti-cat faction, watched with resentment and unease. I felt their stares like knives, but I kept my expression neutral.

“Second,” Jackson continued, “Thomas Black is confined to house arrest effective immediately. Two enforcers will be posted at all times. He does not leave his residence until the investigation and any tribunal are complete.”

Thomas’s face twisted with rage, but he stayed silent. Smart. For once.

“Third,” Jackson said, voice hardening, “anyone implicated in the files is also under house arrest pending investigation. No exceptions. Try to run and it will go worse for you.”

The relief in the room grew thicker among the ones who had suffered. A few even let out shaky breaths.

Jackson's voice never wavered. He had done this for them. For the omegas and the kids and the families. But mostly, I knew, for us.

I kept my expression neutral, but cold satisfaction curled low in my gut. Thomas was isolated now. Caged. Reachable. The window I had waited ten years for was finally opening.

The enforcers started leading Thomas away. He limped between them, blood still drying on his skin. At the last moment, he twisted his head and looked straight at me. Pure hatred burned in his eyes.

I met his gaze flat and steady. No smile. No triumph on my face. Just the quiet promise I had carried since I was thirteen.

He would see me again.

Chapter 48: Luna

The weeks after Jackson claimed the alpha title passed in a haze of controlled chaos.

We stayed in our apartment off pack territory, against every custom and expectation. The older wolves were scandalized. Their new alpha living outside the packhouse with a cat shifter mate was apparently the final insult.

I didn’t care. Neither did Jackson. The apartment was ours, and for now that was enough.

Artemis had claimed it as his kingdom, constantly underfoot and demanding attention with imperious meows. The little gray tyrant was thriving.

Jackson rose before dawn most mornings, slipping out of bed to handle pack business that never seemed to end. We still had school and track practice, but the fall semester was winding down. His team had taken second at cross-country nationals a couple weeks back. I'd stood in the stands at his race cheering louder than anyone, my voice raw by the end. Indoor track was next. Life felt strangely normal.

Today I went to the packhouse with him. I had never asked for the title of Luna and I sure as hell didn’t want it, but Jackson needed me here. So I stepped up.

The omegas, the weakest and least dominant members of the pack, were already stringing up Christmas decorations when we arrived. They moved through the main hall, hanging lights and faded garlands. A few glanced our way and offered small, tentative nods. Progress. Under Thomas they had basically been treated as slaves with no rights.

I had come here a few times a week since the challenge. The wolves were slowly getting used to my presence. The open hostility had retreated, replaced by sideways glances and pressed lips. Tina and the older anti-cat crowd still tracked me from the edges, waiting for me to overstep so they could pounce.

Jackson’s hand brushed my lower back as we moved through the hall. In the past weeks we had worked together to undo some of Thomas’s damage. We put trustworthy people in place, stripped power from the old inner circle, and started redistributing what the former alpha had hoarded — food, housing, funds. The omegas and weaker families came first. Always. It was simple math to me. The ones who suffered most got relief first.

I was surprisingly good at it. Detached. Ruthless when necessary. It wasn’t what I had come here for, but it felt right.

A day after Jackson became alpha, Rick had sworn loyalty without hesitation, glad to do it. Jason had sworn it too, voice steady but eyes hollow. His sister was still locked away. I had seen their parents only once, both of them withdrawn and brittle, like grief had carved them empty. Everybody was hurting in their own way.

Jackson hadn’t spoken Lia’s name once since the warehouse. Through the bond I felt the quiet waves of self-blame rolling off him. He had known her his whole life, grown up with her, considered her a friend. And he had never seen it coming.

I pushed the thought aside as we reached the central meeting room. Two enforcers were already waiting with reports. A middle-aged woman, one of the omegas who had been scraping by for years, stepped forward hesitantly.

“Alpha. Luna.” She glanced at me, uncertain. “The winter supplies arrived, but the Markham family is refusing to hand over their extra stores. They say it’s theirs by right.”