Page 120 of Knot Their Arrangement

This is information I need to understand – knowledge that could mean the difference between freedom and captivity.

"Every pack involved gets a cut of the final sale," Ezekiel's voice carries years of frustrated investigation in its tone. "The scouts get finder's fees. The transporters get handling charges. The trainers get conditioning bonuses. By the time someone reaches their final destination, they've passed through so many hands that tracing the original source becomes nearly impossible."

His explanation paints a picture of organized crime that transcends typical pack politics. This isn't just about power or territory – it's about treating people as products, about reducing lives to monetary value.

"The system works because it meets multiple needs," he continues, his detective's analytical mind laying out the brutal economics. "Packs seeking Omegas get carefully conditioned mates who match their specifications. Packs wanting additional Alphas get fighters or breeders with desired traits. Even Beta packs can profit by acting as middlemen or providing support services."

The comprehensiveness of the network he describes is terrifying.

How many people disappear into this system every year? How many lives are erased and rewritten to satisfy the demands of wealthy packs seeking to expand their influence?

"But what makes it truly difficult to combat," Ezekiel concludes, frustration evident in his tone, "is how it's often disguised as legitimate pack expansion. Official paperwork lists consensual pack mergers or traditional arranged marriages. Financial transactions are hidden behind shell companies and fake business deals. Unless someone speaks out – and survives doing so – it's nearly impossible to prove criminal intent."

His words hang heavy in the kitchen's air, making the expensive appliances and designer fixtures seem suddenly hollow.

All this wealth, all this supposed civilization, and underneath it runs rivers of suffering masked as tradition and proper pack politics.

"That's horrible," I say softly, though I can't quite muster genuine surprise. "But sadly expected." My fingers trace patterns in the condensation forming on the counter's marble surface as I gather my thoughts. "I was actually talking to my best friend about the Movement and its implications recently."

The memory of my last conversation with Astraea brings both comfort and concern.

We'd spent hours discussing the potential impacts of the new legislation, weighing hope against reality.

"Of course the Movement benefits many Omegas who are dealing with abuse," I continue, choosing my words carefully. "Those of us who've never had the ability to stand up for our own rights. But with how violently some Alphas have reacted to it..."

My voice trails off as I remember the hunters in the forest, their casual brutality.

"I'm afraid to wonder whether it's truly helpful or not."

Damon taps ash from his cigar with deliberate precision, his golden eyes carrying centuries of understanding.

"It will be helpful in the long run," he states with absolute certainty. "Initial change is always met with rebellion. The key is for the government to remain bold and stand their ground." His lips curve slightly. "Which they will."

The conviction in his voice catches my attention.

"How can you be so sure?"

Instead of answering directly, Damon's gaze shifts to Kieran, who responds with a knowing smirk.

"Money makes the world go round," Kieran explains, his mismatched eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Multiple wealthy figures in our hierarchy are contributing to this movement. The media hyper-focused on the Omega contributors, but they're suspiciously quiet about the Alphas who've also invested."

My brow furrows as I consider this.

The news has been full of stories about wealthy Omegas supporting the Movement –their contributions cited as either brave stands for justice or betrayals of traditional values, depending on the source. But Kieran's right– there's been little mention of Alpha supporters.

"Who could have contributed that much?" I wonder aloud, genuinely curious about what kind of Alpha would publicly support Omega rights.

Ezekiel approaches with a tall glass of water, nudging his head toward Kieran as he hands it to me.

"Thanks," I murmur automatically, suddenly realizing how thirsty I am. The glass feels perfectly cool against my palm as I lift it to my lips.

"Kieran was one of the contributors," Ezekiel reveals casually. "Ten billion."

Water sprays from my mouth in a most unladylike display as I process his words. My eyes dart to Kieran, who looks entirely too amused by my reaction.

"WHAT?!" The word comes out as a squeak. "T-T-T-T-TEN BILLION?! Not million? BILLION?!"

The amount seems incomprehensible.

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