Leaning heavily against the countertop, my fingers clutch the edge. My gaze remains fixed, unseeing, lost in the thin air in front of me. In my trance-like state, I don't register the male approaching until his arms encircle my waist, drawing me into his embrace. His lips brush against the curve of my neck as Logan pleads with a soft urgency, "Collen... Please, talk to me. You've been quiet ever since. I'm...I'm sorry."
My eyelids finally flutter, moistening my dry eyes, but I remain unmoving in his hold. Ever since...
"Collen..." My name leaves his lips as a sigh and my brows furrow at the tone of mild bemusement. It's as if he can't understand why I am so worked up, as if my outrage is nothing more than the petulant whining of a child.
This only serves to stoke the fire of my anger. "Aren't you mad about what happened? How can you be so indifferent??", I can't help but raise my voice. "George and Jade didn't deserve this! No one does! You saw what they did to George in the headquarters!! Who the Fuck gave the higher-ups the right to treat him like that?!"
"It wasn't the higher-ups."
His statement causes me to falter for a second. "H-huh?", is all I manage to utter.
"I checked into the whole ordeal. It was the hunters present in the lobby." Logan's gaze hardens, his tone steady as he adds, "And it came as no surprise to me. We are born with duties to fulfill, Collen. Purposes to serve. Every hunter who steps into headquarters for commissions, does so knowingly that they're putting their lives on the line. In fact, it's something they must even prepare their children for— instilling in them the willingness to die for our cause. It all comes with pride, yes, but can often be like shackles binding us down. Beneath that pride we carry, there lies a simmering frustration. So when they saw George emerge from the office with his sleeves torn off, a form of indication of his banishment, they lashed out at him for forsaking those very shackl—"
The male presses his tongue against his upper teeth, before correcting his words, "—forsaking those very duties." With a slight shake of his head, he remarks, "George is lucky he didn't end up dead in there."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I launch into a tirade, "But he didn't forsake his duties! Neither of them did! They were still hunting, Logan! In fact, they both ascended a couple of months ago! So why does it matter what they do in their spare time or whom they love??"
"Because procreation is also a part of our duty.", Logan meets my gaze evenly. "The ratio of our species to the abominations easily reaches approx. 1:120! While hunters have a pregnancy duration of 9 months, the werewolves give birth in 6! Even 5, if the werewolf in the question is an omega. And let's not forget how vampires can convert countless in just a month."
I stare at him in disbelief, "Why are you defending them instead of defending us?!"
"'Us'?", the male raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, 'us', Logan! You and me. If they banished George and Jade despite all their hard work, what's stopping them from doing the same to us? Do our hunts even count to anything?! Our points? Our achievements?? Because theirs sure as hell didn't seem to matter when it came down to it! If these accomplishments can't even guarantee our standing in society, then what's the point of it all?!"
No matter how passionately I argue my case, Logan remains frustratingly impassive. It's as if he has resigned himself to the reality of the situation, as if he has accepted the way things are.
But for me, acceptance is not an option.
I grab the tag dangling from my neck, and look down at its gleaming surface, "This is meant to signify more than just our rank and encoded data...", I mutter, my voice tinged with frustration. "It's our commitment to the cause. But what has it got us? More suffering, more uncertainty... Self-loathing? It's starting to suffocate me, Logan. It's like we're constantly walking on thin ice, never knowing when we'll be cast out like unwanted baggage. There's no future here, at least not for the likes of us."
