"And the children?" I ask, though I already know the answer will haunt me.
"Sorted." Ron's fingers dig into his arms. "The ones with shifting anomalies, strange scents, flickers of power—they'd be sent away once they were two or so. They're lucky to make it to five, usually."
"Five?" My voice cracks. Five isn't nearly long enough. "Why only… five?"
"Best energy-to-lifespan ratio." His clinical tone makes it worse somehow. "Younger, and they're not strong enough yet. Older, and they start becoming individuals. Hard to control. Five is optimal."
Bile rises in my throat. "And 'elsewhere'? Where is that?"
"Don't know." He shrugs one shoulder, looking at Caine when the man blows out a deep breath. "It's one hundred percent mortality rate. That's all I know."
The Lycan's energy beside me feels like a thunderstorm, contained in a tiny bottle. A glass one, ready to shatter at any moment.
"Your parents..." I begin hesitantly. "Were they from—"
"Fiddleback? Yeah." Ron nods. "My mom was one of Halloway's favorites."
The way he says it—so detached, so matter-of-fact—breaks my heart. "Do you know her name?"
"No." He shrugs again, as if it's the only response we need to any of our questions. "Just her face. Saw her once. Before."
"And your father?"
A soft, derisive, teenage-but-somehow-older snort. "Who knows? All the old wolves fuck around. Part of the program. Halloway's the worst, though." His lip curls in disgust. "He sold his honor. He didn't want to be a pack alpha. He wanted more power than that."
I think of Alpha Brax, of how he cast me aside the moment he learned I wasn't his biological daughter. I thoughtthatwas betrayal. But this—this systematic cruelty, this calculated evil—makes my own pain seem small in comparison.
"How many children?" I ask, my voice so soft I'm not sure it even came out.
But it did.
"Hundreds over the years." Ron's eyes dart back to the alcove. "Most don't make it out."
"But you did," I say softly.
His face hardens. "Yeah."
"Are… Jer and Sara? And Bun? Are they all Fiddleback, too?"
He shakes his head. "Nah. They're not from the program. They're just from local families. That's why Owen could get them out alive."
"Was it only pack, then? In the program?" If the other shifter families aren't involved…
But he shakes his head. "No. Any shifter they could grab. Sometimes new families would move here without knowing, though. Or they'd bamboozle 'em. Humans, too. Sometimes they survived. Sometimes they didn't."
My trembling intensifies. "And the ones who survived... what happened to them?"
He meets my eyes, hollow and direct. "Pregnant."
Oh.
Of course.
That would… make sense. A horrible, awful sense.
Was Mom a product of something like this? Did Brax also…?
No. I would know if we had a breeding program somewhere in our pack, wouldn't I? I mean, they can't hide it from everyone, right?
