The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as Kaelen navigated the sleek, silent electric car through the evening traffic. The adrenaline from the confrontation in the toy store had faded, leaving a protective, simmering anger in its place. In the passenger seat, Iris clutched her new sloth, the Sanrio keychains on her bag jingling softly with every turn.
The quiet was comfortable, but the memory of the boys' sneering faces hung in the air. Kaelen glanced at Iris, who was staring out the window, her earlier joy subdued.
"Who were those kids, Iris?" Kaelen asked, her voice gentle against the hum of the engine.
Iris didn't look away from the window. "They're my classmates," she mumbled. "They used to tease me at school."
A cold knot tightened in Kaelen's stomach. "Why would they tease you?" She already knew the answer would be cruel. Children were often tiny, brutal mirrors of their parents' prejudices.
Iris's voice was so small it was almost swallowed by the sound of the car. "Because they say I came from a broken family. And that my mom is selling herself on TV."
Kaelen's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The accusation was so vile, so perfectly aimed at the insecurities of a child. "What? Your mom is an amazing actress," she said, the defense coming instantly and with surprising ferocity. "What do they mean?"
Iris finally turned to look at her, her big eyes filled with a confusion that was heartbreaking. "Because they said she's a Dominant Omega. And Omegas are like that. They said I'm gonna grow up like her. A useless Omega who crawls for the Alphas."
The words landed like blows. It was the world's ugliest prejudice, distilled and weaponized by children. It explained the depth of Sera's despair, the way she held herself like she was bracing for a blow. She wasn't just grieving; she was fighting a war against a society that saw her very nature as a commodity or a weakness.
Kaelen pulled the car over into a temporary stop, needing to look at Iris properly. The city glittered around them, indifferent.
"Listen to me," Kaelen said, her voice firm but soft. "Those boys are wrong. What they said is ignorant and cruel. Being an Omega isn't about being useless or crawling for anyone. Your mother is strong. She's enduring things they could never understand. And she's doing it for you."
Iris blinked, listening intently.
"Dominant, Recessive, Alpha, Omega, Beta it doesn't define your worth," Kaelen continued, pouring a conviction into her words that she hadn't known she possessed. "It's just a part of you, like your eyes or your smile. What defines you is what you choose to do. Your mother chose to be an actress, to tell stories. She chose to protect you. Those are choices of strength. Never, ever let anyone make you feel small for who you are. You are kind, and you are brave. That matters more than anything."
She reached out and gently tapped the sloth's nose. "And this guy thinks you're the best person in the whole world."
A tiny, wobbly smile touched Iris's lips. She nodded, sniffling once before hugging her sloth tightly. The weight of the conversation had exhausted her. Within minutes, lulled by the motion of the car and the emotional toll of the day, her breathing evened out and she fell into a deep sleep.
Kaelen watched her for a moment, the fierce protectiveness swelling again. She drove the rest of the way home in a thoughtful silence, the city's judgmental glare outside the window feeling less imposing.
Arriving at the residential tower, she carefully unbuckled the sleeping Iris. She lifted her into her arms, the girl a warm, trusting weight against her shoulder. A building attendant materialized, and Kaelen nodded toward the bags of toys in the back seat. The man quickly gathered them, his expression carefully neutral.
The ride up in the private elevator was silent. In the penthouse, Kaelen carried Iris straight to the guest room that had clearly become hers a space that still felt temporary, with few personal touches. She tucked her into bed, placing the sloth beside her. Iris sighed in her sleep, curling around the toy.
Kaelen stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of the blankets. The 0% approval was a sleeping promise now.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, Kaelen retreated to the living room. The silence of the penthouse was different now. It wasn't just empty; it was waiting. Sera was still gone. The space held its breath.
She poured herself a glass of water and took a stack of data slates to the sofa, determined to review the Bio Synth reports she'd neglected. She had to maintain the facade of the competent heir, especially after her father's warning. The holographic text glowed in the dim light, numbers and formulas swimming before her eyes. She was so engrossed in trying to force her mind to focus that she didn't notice at first.
A soft, steady pattering against the floor to ceiling windows.
She looked up.
Rain.
It began softly, then quickly escalated into a torrential downpour. Fat droplets slashed against the glass, distorting the glittering cityscape into a watercolor painting of smeared light. The sound was a constant, soothing roar, a natural white noise that drowned out the usual hum of the city and the even louder hum of her own anxieties.
Kaelen set the data slate down. She walked to the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. She watched the rain trace paths through the lights below, a chaotic, beautiful mess.
It felt like a cleansing. A washing away of the day's anger, the performative cruelty, the fear. The steady rhythm of it seeped into her bones, calming the frantic energy that had been thrumming through her since she'd woken up on this floor.
Here, in the quiet dark, with the rain lashing against her cage and a sleeping child in the next room, Kaelen Blackwood finally felt a moment of peace. It was fragile. It was temporary. But for now, in the eye of the storm she was trapped in, it was enough.