51 Rabbit Hole

I'm surprised when Ellie joins me at the pickup line in front of the school. "Finally tired of watching Davy practice football?"

"Not at all. I'm going to go with you to Luna training."

"What? Why?"

"Well," she says slowly. "If Mom thinks Luna Esther can teach you how to be a proper omega, then I'm sure I can learn some valuable skills too."

My heart warms a little. "Thank you, Ellie, but you don't have to go just to keep me company."

"I'm not. I want to go."

"Is this your plan? Join me in being tortured?"

She smirks. "Part of it."

Mom is a little thrown by Ellie's insistence that she also be tutored by Luna Esther, but says she's fine with it as long as the Luna agrees.

"Ah, Cameron, there you are." Luna Esther greets me with her plastic smile after I knock on her office door. "And Ellie, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

My sister plasters on an unnaturally broad smile, mimicking the older woman. "I was hoping you would be willing to tutor me as well. I would love to learn more about how the pack is run, and maybe I could be a good influence on my brother." Backstabbing traitor, but the Luna seems to approve of this response.

"What a nice idea, my dear. Of course you can join us." She gestures for us to enter her immaculate office. "Take a seat."

The space reflects the woman, utilitarian but distinctly feminine. The embellished dark wood of her furniture and crown molding is offset by baby blue accidents and pearly carpeting. A vase of white roses sits on her desk and matches two MacBooks, one facing the blue swivel chair behind her desk and one facing the two armchairs on the opposite side.

When I plop into one of the oversized chairs, Luna Esther raises a single eyebrow, taking her own seat daintily. Ellie copies the older woman's decorum, even going so far as to tuck her legs together demurely. I agreed to come, because I wanted access to the gym and Ellie convinced me to play along for now, but if she expects me to sit like a pretty princess, she's got another thing coming.

The Luna clears her throat theatrically. "Now then, I don't know what Margaret told you, but I'm not here to train you how to be the Luna."

"You—you're not?" Is she letting me go? Probably not, but a guy can dream, right?

"No, I trust my friend has done an excellent job of teaching you, and I know from experience that you at least have the capability of acting according to your station." I grind my teeth, suppressing the urge to tell her exactly what I think of my station as a child bride. "I don't know why you decided to break my son's heart, but I suspect it is because you lack a sense of responsibility that comes from hard work." Right, because being a straight A student and one of the best athletes in my school is not hard work at all. "So, I am putting you to work as my assistant. Ellie dear, you are free to help or leave. The choice is yours."

"I want to stay."

"Good. You will start by helping me balance the budget."

Luna Esther is a haughty omega who, unlike her son, lacks genuine warmth. In fact, the only trait she passed down to Davy is her obsidian eyes. She is fair skinned, like Ellie and me, with wheat colored hair curling past her shoulders. Matching me in height, she is tall for an omega, but that is not too surprising, because she is genetically like me.

A male omega.

Or well, she was born as one. She's actually a trans female omega. Of course, I don't resent her for transitioning. She is who she is, and, I must admit, she is both stunning and elegant—the pinnacle of female beauty standards. I just wish people didn't expect me to be the same.

There was a period of about six months right after my first heat where she called me exclusively by female pronouns. I don't think she was trying to be mean—maybe she was even trying to help me—but I was so afraid to correct her that everyone assumed I must be transitioning, and soon the entire pack was misgendering me. It didn't help that Mom insisted on buying me a whole new wardrobe and forced me into dresses again, just like when I was a toddler. It wasn't until Dad found me in my closet one morning having my first full blown panic attack that things finally got better. He must have talked with Mom—who I assume talked with Luna Esther—because the next day she called me a "sweet boy" and started using male pronouns.

I have always been a little curious about our Luna, wondering what she went through as a kid. Did she always know she was a woman or was that something she felt pressured into becoming after she found out she was an omega? She wears her femininity so perfectly, like a well-tailored suit, that I have a hard time believing she could ever have been anything else. Did she ever feel uncomfortable in her own skin? Uncomfortable with the pack's expectations? Sometimes I wish I had another male omega to just talk to, ask them about their experiences, but I've always been too uncomfortable to bring up the subject with the Luna.

Maybe I really do need therapy. That's a thing humans do, right? Too bad werewolves don't believe in asking humans for help. That would be showing weakness.

What would I even tell a human therapist?

"I'm gay, but not really, because I'm not really a man, because I've got a uterus and everyone treats me like a girl, but like the 1960s house wife kind of girl, not the twenty-first century badass kind of girl. But I still totally identify as a guy and I want to be in a relationship with a guy, but maybe more as equals? Except the idea of bottoming kind of freaks me out. Like maybe I would do it with the right guy, but then there's the fear that I might get pregnant if I ever did. Because that's a thing I can do: have babies. So let's hope condoms don't actually break in real life as often as they do in movies, because I can't take the pill, because I'm not actually a girl. I'm not even human. That's right: I'm a werewolf."

Yeaaah… that conversation is bascially the same reason I refuse to join the school's Gender-Sexuality Alliance, even though they invite me personally. Every. Year.

Luna Esther sets down a yellow manila folder overflowing with thin white sheets on the desk in front of us. "These are the receipts for pack expenses from last month." Was GSA even a thing when she was a teenager? Probably not. "I want you to go through each one and enter the information into this spreadsheet under one of the budget's categories."

Data entry. Fun.

Wow. I'm in a snarky mood today. I thought I was trying to be less angry all the time.

"Enter the name of the business under the payee column and add a brief description of what was bought under the memo section."

The work was easy enough, if a bit mind numbing, and thankfully Luna Esther doesn't feel inclined to engage me in any more conversations about my choice to reject her son. Ellie and I fall into a rhythm, with her calling out information while I type.

After the second day of data entry, my mind is fried. I've enjoyed returning to the gym in the morning, but by Wednesday, I'm beginning to question whether the Luna's dull office work is worth it.

Despite the extra work (or maybe because of it as my mother would insist), I've actually been feeling better overall. Well, not better, just less bad. Less on edge and angry at the world.

In the mornings, Davy, Taylor, Ellie and I carpool to school. We eat lunch together with the rest of the pack and Tiffany's new human cohort. I have a sneaking suspicion some of the girls are part of the "Cameron Berkley" fanclub Taylor once told me about, but thankfully they don't bother me too much. Just stare at me an uncomfortable amount when they think I'm not looking.

I hardly see Alastair at all except during precalc. I try to find him during third period and lunch on Wednesday and reach out to him again after class on Thursday, but he always evades me. That's ok, though. I'm still working through my emotions and could honestly use a bit more time.

However, on Friday, I have one almost success, where, for a moment, I think maybe we will reconnect. While leaving volleyball practice, I smell him. I can tell he isn't close, but for some reason his scent is especially strong today, as if, instead of a gentle rainshower of lavender, a whole bucket of his perfume has been used to soak every inch of where he's walked. It's calming, fresh, and for some reason, my gut is telling me he is feeling better today.

I follow the scent to the chalk graveyard, hoping to capitalize on the opportunity to talk to him. However, when I arrive, instead of music, I hear voices echoing through the blackboard passageways. I stay on the fringes of the maze, focusing on trying to decipher what is being said from so far away.

A young female voice is speaking rather quickly, clearly distressed. "I really did it this time, didn't I? And now she won't even talk to me! She hates me, doesn't she?"

"Trust me," I hear Alastair respond. "She doesn't hate you."

The girl sniffles a few times. "Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Yes, Al, you would. You do it all the time." I almost blow my cover by bursting out laughing when I hear the flat, deadpan way the girl calls him out.

"Only when necessary, and I'm not lying now," Alastair says indignantly. Cute. Then more softly he says, "I wouldn't lie about this. Ok?"

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. She is a little bit hurt by what you said, but more than anything she wants your love and approval."

"Then why is she refusing to talk to me?" the girl whines. At this point, based on context clues, I'm pretty sure she is a witch.

"Because she is afraid of you rejecting her again, so she is pushing you away first. Be persistent, but patient. Let her know you're sorry, but will wait until she is ready to talk about it, and I'm sure with a little time you will work things out with her."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

The witch chuckles wetly just as a rich warm glow fills my heart. "You know everything, don't you Al?"

"Why do people always think that? I definitely do not know everything."

"But you always have the best advice."

"Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment. Now, Sirena is in the library if you want to catch her to apologize before fourth period."

"Thanks, Al. You're the best!"

I hear shuffling and decide it is probably time to make my escape before either witch notices I'm eavesdropping. (Well, at least before the unknown witch notices, as I'm not sure it is actually possible for me to get away with eavesdropping on Alastair anymore.) As I walk away, I let myself enjoy his peaceful lavender scent and the sweet sensation unfurling in my gut.

Even at the lowest point in his life, Alastair is still helping others with his powers. After everything, he hasn't lost that idealism. I let this joyful thought propel me through the rest of the day. When I see him in precalc, our eyes meet for just a moment and I think I see something like hope pass behind his dark violet eyes, but it is quickly replaced by cold indifference.

However, I won't let his mask of apathy send me down the rabbit hole of self-doubt and inadequacy anymore. I've got to be "persistent, but patient", just like he said. I'm going to listen to his needs, instead of my own.

I let this resolve carry me through my afternoon session with the Luna, throwing myself into the work like never before.

And that's when I notice it.

While entering tax payments and returns into the monthly budget, my interest is piqued by something strange. It leads me down a rabbit hole of data review which disrupts my usual flow with Ellie. She seems curious about what I've found, but hasn't caught on yet.

"Luna," I start hesitantly. "I think there is an error in these 1040 forms." Granted, I know next to nothing about taxes, but I am pretty good at math and I have been staring at the pack's money inflow and outflow for the past three days.

"What do you mean by error?" She narrows her eyes and I sink under the pressure of her gaze. But… I don't want to be afraid all the time of displeasing people. I promised myself I wouldn't let fear dictate my choices anymore.

"Uh… Well, I noticed that the pack expenses from last month include property tax on our land and capital gains taxes on our stock holdings, but I didn't see any income taxes. I was curious, so…"

The look the Luna is giving me makes me feel like I've been caught red handed with my hand in the cookie jar. Was I not allowed to look at previous months' budget? Too late to back down now.

"I did some digging and I found that our estimated annual income which determines how much we pay in taxes quarterly doesn't include business we do with other supernaturals, just humans. At least, I think that's what is going on. I'm not really sure, but—as an example—our orchard mostly sells to human visitors, so the estimated income is pretty close to what I think it should be, like 90%? But our contractor business travels to tons of packs in the region to do construction and we do all kinds of repairs and maintenance on the coven mansion, so most of our income comes from other supernaturals. But when I compare our inflow to the amount we paid in taxes last quarter it is way off, like only 40% of what we should be paying." I pause to take a breath, realizing I've been rambling for way too long.

An uncomfortable silence stretches between us, before, "Why on earth would we pay the human government for business we do amongst ourselves?"

Oh.

I blink once. Twice.

Oh shit.

She knew.

"Um… isn't that like…" Shut up Cam. "...tax evasion?" Shit. Why did I say that? I must be out of practice after not trying to filter my words all month.

The Luna's expression darkens. "It's not tax evasion if those liberal crooks choose to rob us more and more every year." I grind my teeth. Don't engage. "We don't use half the services our taxes pay for," This isn't the first time I've heard such rhetoric. Move on. Let it go. "and now they want us to pay to support lazy homeless humans who can't bother to get real jobs."

My blood boils.

SHUT DOWN THAT THOUGHT.

"Just because someone is homeless doesn't mean they are lazy or choosing to not have a job."

Or don't.

"No one deserves to live on the streets." Shit. Did I just growl at her? What is wrong with me? I usually avoid engaging in political discussions with anyone except Ellie, so why'd I have to stick my foot in my mouth now? Oh that's right, this is "New Cam: Unfiltered".

Luna Esther laughs, but the sound is hollow and chills me to the bone. "Of course they do! You reap what you sow, Cameron. There are plenty of jobs they could be doing, but they choose to spend their money on drugs and then complain when they are too high to hold down a job."

For one terrifying moment, looking at her stormy expression, I worry I might have gone too far this time. Fighting with my parents was one thing, but disrespecting the Luna? This woman had significant power over my life.

What if she told my mom I was spouting liberal hogwash and convinced her human school was brainwashing me? Would my parents follow through on the threat to withdraw me? Would I ever be able to leave pack lands again? Would I ever be able to make things right with Alastair?

When I don't immediately respond, she continues her rant. "Honestly, Cameron, I'm surprised by you. I heard you were hanging out with the witches, but I never thought you would start spouting their ridiculous rhetoric. What's next? Are you going to say we should support rogues too? That they don't deserve to be rogues?"

Her words spark a terrifying thought. What if she decides I deserve to be a rogue? I'm pretty sure if Davy had actually been my Goddess-given mate and I had rejected him, I would have been kicked out of the pack in a heartbeat. Wasn't there a girl five or six years ago who was banned for rejecting her mate?

Now that she's seen my true colors, how long will it be before she loses patience? When I refuse to mate with David, will I be useless to the pack? Once she grows tired of my defiance, will she decide I don't belong? Will I be forced out of my home? Lose my family and friends? My sister?

Become a rogue. Hated by all supernaturals. No money. No home. A teenage high school dropout. Uneducated. Alone. Doomed to descend into madness as I wander the woods as a wolf. Hunting to survive.

Killing.

Death.

Addy.

My sister's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me out of the hole I've dug in my mind.