Page 250 of Awakened

Dax and I crowd in on either side as he unfolds the cardboard, unveiling what’s inside.

“Photos,” Dax huffs, clearly disappointed.

I’m not disappointed. I’m stoked. Few things depict someone’s history as accurately as candid photos. I reach in, pull out a manila envelope, and open it. A batch of neatly stacked photos, tied with twine, falls into my hand.

“Doesn’t hurt to have a look,” I say when Dax frowns at me.

The first one I pull out has me doing a double-take. At first glance, I think it’s Idril.

It isn’t.

This woman looks similar—small and delicate like Idril, with the similar bright blue eyes—but her hair is a honey blonde, her chin is sharper, and her cheekbones are less defined.

She’s outside in someone’s backyard, wearing a light blue sundress. Her smile is so bright and happy you can almost feel the joy across the decades.

“It’s Annalise,” I murmur. “Idril’s mom.”

I pass the photo to Dax, who glances at it before passing it to Riven. The next photo is also of Annalise, but in this one she’s older. And heavily pregnant.

That same bubbly joy is in this photo too, and I have a feeling it has something to do with the hand resting gently on her baby bump, eyes shining with love and excitement.

I pass it over and pull out the next.

A single glance has the corners of my mouth lifting into a smile.

“It’s Idril,” I grin, holding it out for Dax and Riven to see.

It’s strange to see the Omega as a toddler, held in her mother’s arms. They look so happy, with their cheeks pressed close together, faces sporting identical radiant smiles.

Idril’s hair is the same white blonde as it is now, and it’s even easier to see where the otherworldly blue of her eyes came from. She’s in a jumper, with her hair in pigtails and her grin showing off a mouth full of baby teeth.

Gods, was she always adorable?

I can just see what her future children will look like. They’ll probably have the same beautiful blue eyes and white hair. They’ll look just like their mother, and Caelan and Soren are the lucky assholes who will get to love them and watch them grow.

I shake my head, get lost in my own jealousy, and move on to the next photo. In this one, Idril’s about six and missing her two front teeth. She’s outside at a park. Behind her, children run and play, smiling and laughing.

Idril’s smiling too, but there’s something off. It’s noticeably dimmer than the last photo, almost… forced.

From there, the photos continue to capture Idril as she grows older. Seven, eight, nine. Each time, she has the same bright blue eyes, but her smile dims more with each year that passes.

This is what I wanted Daxen to see. Not that I knew exactly what we’d find, but it was a pretty good guess that after two decades of trauma we’d stumble across some kind of evidence that would serve as undeniable proof of the life she’s lived.

It’s impossible to look at the little girl in these pictures and see just an Omega. This proves she’s more than her Designation.

And what kind of Packmate would I be if I didn’t force him to confront the things that make him an insufferable dick?

The final photo is a candid shot. Idril’s sitting at a table with a cake in front of her. The flickering candles mark the event as her thirteenth birthday.

Right before she Designated.

She’s gazing listlessly off to the side with a dazed expression. Like she’s only going through the motions.

If there’s any question as to why a child would look so unhappy on her birthday, all you have to do is look in the reflection of the window to see why.

Varenthrall’s standing behind whoever’s holding the camera, which explains why he’s not even bothering to fake it. Why smile at your daughter’s birthday when you can stand there sneering with your arms crossed and your eyes narrowed?

What a fucking tool.