The Omega and The Arrogant Alpha (by Kylie) novel Chapter 268

The report is waiting for me when I wake up.

Not flagged urgent. Not marked confidential. Just sitting there in the shared feed, already circulated, already read by people who won’t bother checking where the authority came from as long as the outcome suits them. The kind of document designed to feel official through familiarity, not legitimacy.

I skim the header first.

Enforcement Adjustment Summary

Authorized Under Mediation Oversight

My name is there before I reach the second line.

Savannah Vale.

Used like a stamp. Like a seal. Like something heavy enough to pin responsibility in place without ever asking permission.

I sit up slowly, the morning light still thin through the curtains, tablet balanced in my hands. I already know what I’m going to find, but knowing doesn’t blunt the impact of seeing it laid out so cleanly.

I read the rest slower.

Harsh enforcement measures justified as preventative. Patrol expansions into contested areas. Detainment protocols broadened under “temporary stabilization authority.” Language softened just enough to pass casual review, edges sanded down until consequences sound like inconvenience instead of force.

All of it tied back to negotiations I never approved.

Negotiations I explicitly limited.

Negotiations that were never meant to grant enforcement power at all.

My chest tightens, sharp and immediate. Not surprise. Recognition. The kind that settles deep because it confirms something you already suspected.

This is exactly what they wanted.

I don’t slam the tablet down. I don’t curse. I don’t even stand up right away. I sit there on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor, feeling the cool wood through the soles of my feet. I breathe once. Then again. Slow. Measured. Letting the anger burn down into something controlled instead of explosive.

Anger like this is useless if you let it run wild.

Anger like this needs direction.

Then I move.

I dress without thinking. Practical clothes. Boots. Jacket. I don’t bother checking messages. I already know what they’ll say. I don’t want the noise before I deal with the source.

The coalition leader doesn’t expect me to show up in person.

That’s obvious the moment I walk into the public assembly hall and feel the ripple go through the room. Conversations falter mid-sentence. Heads turn. Someone straightens their jacket like they’ve suddenly remembered posture matters when power walks in unannounced.

The leader is already at the dais, mid-discussion, voice smooth and confident. He’s good at this. He knows how to sound reasonable while doing unreasonable things. He knows how to speak like the outcome was inevitable, not engineered.

I don’t interrupt.

I wait.

It’s subtle, but it happens. His mouth closes. His posture stiffens. The authority he was wearing slips, just enough for everyone to see the seams.

“I am not an authorizing body,” I continue, my voice calm, measured, lethal in its restraint. “I do not grant enforcement authority. I did not approve expanded patrols, detainments, or territorial pressure.”

He opens his mouth.

I don’t let him speak.

“You used my name to legitimize actions that violate the terms of mediation,” I say. “Publicly.”

The word hangs there.

Publicly.

People shift. A few murmurs ripple through the room. Someone in the back leans forward, suddenly interested in a way they weren’t five minutes ago.

“This was necessary,” the leader says, tightening his jaw. “Stability demanded swift action.”

“No,” I reply. “Convenience did.”

I turn slightly, angling my body so I’m addressing the room instead of him now. He’s no longer the center of this conversation. That’s intentional.

“Let me be very clear,” I say. “My involvement does not confer authority. Any enforcement measures taken under the claim of my oversight are unauthorized.”