​Once the door clicked shut and Cilian was gone, Ren didn’t wait. He reached up and pulled the tubes out of his arm. He hissed as he sat up, his stomach feeling like it was being ripped open. He didn’t know how many days he had been out, but his body felt weak and heavy.

​He staggered to his feet, using the wall for support. He made it to the door and pulled it open.

​Immediately, the smell hit him. The thick, heavy scent of copper filled his nose. Ren stepped into the hallway, his hand over his wound.

​There was blood everywhere. It was smeared across the floor and splashed on the walls. He saw bodies being dragged away by men in black suits. The living room was a mess of red.

It seemed like ​Cilian had started the purge right here, in his own house. Anyone who could have let the invaders in, anyone who had failed to protect the dome, anyone who seemed suspicious enough to be a spy—they were all being cleared out.

​Ren ignored the scene and continued walking.

He had one goal.

His breath was coming in short gasps, his body trembling. He could feel the loos screaming at his nerves but he had no time for this.

Before Cilian came back, he must uncover the truth about how all this began.

And so, he was heading toward the basement. He needed to find his uncles.

Ren finally arrived at the lower floor, the air getting colder the deeper he went. He held his side, his fingers wet with blood that had soaked through his fresh bandages.

When he reached the inner chamber of the basement, he saw them.

His uncles, Mark and Anderson were hanging by their wrists, pale and barely conscious. The machines were humming, slowly pulling the life out of them.

Ren felt immense hate as soon as he saw them. He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a scalpel from a nearby tray and pressed it into Anderson’s shoulder. He no longer cared about being a doctor. He just wanted the truth.

Anderson let out a pained scream.

"Why?" Ren hissed, his eyes dark with a hunger for answers. "Why did you help him? Why would you side with Cilian to kill your own brother? To kill my father?"

Anderson let out a weak, wet chuckle. "N-naive... you’re still so naive, Ren." He looked at Ren with a mocking gaze despite being in pain. "We didn’t just help him. We gave him the only solution he had left."

"What are you talking about?" Ren demanded.

"The French," Mark gasped, his eyes unfocused. "Two years ago, you thought you were going there to start a partnership, right? But your father... he was actually selling you. You were a breeding Omega, Ren. A high-priced animal to trade for a seat at the table in Paris."

Ren felt like the floor was suddenly falling away. "What... what are you talking about?"

Were they spouting rubbish just to confuse me?

"You lying bastards! My father was not that kind of man. He loved me and he would do anything to protect me." Ren yelled at them, twisting the scalpel in Anderson’s shoulder.

"He protected his image," Mark interjected, his voice fading. "An Omega has no use to a Pierce unless they’re making babies or making money. Well, your father just found a way to do both."

Ren’s vision blurred with a mix of physical pain and hot denial. He didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’t. He took out the scalpel and gripped Anderson’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the open, bleeding wound where the scalpel had just been.

A loud, wet groan of agony filled the basement, but Ren didn’t let go. He leaned in closer, his face inches from his uncle’s.

"Tell me the truth!" Ren yelled, his voice cracking with desperation. "You’re lying! I refuse to believe that. You’re just trying to mess with my head before you die! My father would never... He would never do that to me! He was the head of the family! He didn’t need to sell his own son!"

Anderson, his head hanging low, let out a shaky, rattling breath. He looked at Ren with pity, a look that hurt more than the finger digging into his wonder tissues.

"Stop, Ren... stop. You won’t get another answer from us. Because this is the truth. The dreadful truth. Your father saw you as a check to be cashed. That is all."

Ren felt a cold, hollow ache spread through his chest. His heart raced so fast it was hard to breathe. Disbelief and fear fought for space in his mind.

He wanted to scream that they were wrong, but the memory of those last weeks at the Pierce Manor started to fit together like jagged pieces of glass. The secret meetings. The way his father suddenly stopped talking about Ren’s medical career that would help the clan and started talking about ’legacy’ and ’duty.’

He stepped back, his hands shaking and covered in his family’s blood. He lifted his head, his eyes wide and searching for one last bit of hope to cling to.

"What about my brothers?" Ren whispered, his voice small and fragile. "They... they loved me. They were always kind. They didn’t know, right? They wouldn’t have agreed to this. They were proud but they were still my brothers and they should’ve pushed against this, right?"

He remembered the way they used to bring him gifts, the way they’d laugh and tell him he was the smartest of them all.

Surely, they weren’t part of this. They couldn’t have looked him in the eye every day knowing he was being sold.

Mark looked up, a cruel, mocking smile on his bloody lips.

"Kind?" he wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "Ren, they were the ones who pushed for it the hardest. They told your father it was a ’great use’ for a useless Omega. They wanted the French alliance to secure their own power. They didn’t want a brother; they wanted a bargaining chip."