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Humphrey's P.O.V.

It was about two weeks before I left for A-School when all previously existing mandates were lifted and life in the park got back to normal. When Winston made the announcement, the whole pack went nuts and the party that followed was one for the ages. It lasted 3 whole days and I don't remember most of it, but for that little moment, we came together in a way that I had never seen before. I still have hazy memories of alphas and omegas talking, mourning the dead, dining, drinking, singing, dancing, playing together- hell some of them even hooked up if you'd believe it, and in that moment, we had actually achieved that which my mate and I had so desperately hoped to achieve. At that party, we were not alphas or omegas. We were wolves who stood on equal ground with one another with no stigmas or ugly history to tear us apart. We celebrated life, remembered those who were killed, and for that brief, but wonderful moment in time, there was not a care in the world. It seemed that we had finally found a happily ever after for everyone.

But then the day after the happily ever after came and we all had to return to reality. Alphas returned to work, and since we were in a bit of a limbo between chaos and peace, omegas entered a very critical time in which we were constantly judged. Before, with tensions between the East and West boiling over at every turn, we always had a job to do, but now that things were simmering down again, and the alphas expected us to prove our worth to the pack, the pressure to perform pressed upon us from all sides, especially on me. I was the experiment. I, more than anyone, had to prove my worth in A-School in a couple weeks. Kate, of course, always said I had nothing to prove to anyone, but somewhere inside of her, I think even she knew that was false.

There was a lot riding on my success and even though I knew Kate would still accept me should I fail, I would receive no sympathy from the alphas and our orders to lead the pack together following the death or retirement of her parents would likely be revoked and reassigned to someone else. I couldn't do that to my mate. The right to lead the pack was hers since birth, and if my failure meant that she would be forced to forfeit that right, then I would rather divorce her so she would be free to lead the pack by herself or find companionship in another who could fulfill the role and the duties that I could not. I tried not to dwell on it too much though. I had enough stress as it was, because I knew that one way or another, in less than 14 days, my life would change forever...

Kate's P.O.V.

After the party ended and we picked our lives up where we left them off before the murders began, it was business as usual for me and my peers. Though the mandates had been effective in saving lives, though our freedoms had gradually been restored, and though we shared in the jubilee and festivities of the party, the lingering question that burned in everyone's mind remained: Who was the Artist?

In spite of the case going cold and in spite of the peace that followed, we never stopped our investigation and we never stopped looking over our shoulders while we patrolled the park alone. Even though it appeared as though the Artist had vanished, we could not dismiss the possibility that they still walked freely somewhere among us, and, even though none of us dared to say it, we all knew that it was only a matter of time before they struck again. Sure, they backed off momentarily when we applied a little bit of pressure, but ultimately we were just players in their game. They made the rules. They called the shots, and until we could gain any traction in the case, we knew that would never change. It was all rather frustrating. The investigation had been ongoing for months and we were still no closer than than we were on the day that Charlie appeared.

The evidence that we had gathered in that time pointed us to nobody, which meant that they could be literally ANYBODY. It was difficult to know who we could trust in these trying times, and even though we did our best to present a uniform front in front of the common citizens, many fingers had been pointed behind the scenes, many fights had ensued, and many friendships had been severed. It was a horrible reality, but we knew that we could not be too careful. Every alpha in the park was a suspect. I had reason to believe that this was the Artist's plan all along, and if I am completely honest, in spite of the horrible atrocities that they committed in order to carry out their design, it was ingenious. After all, how better to take down an organization than to sow the seeds of distrust between its key operatives, and keep them so paranoid and so busy fighting amongst themselves that they can't even see what's happening right under their noses?

I kept this thought to myself, however, because with the Artist potentially being a member of my own team, I could not afford to posit this notion to anyone, not even my own parents. Of course, I never suspected my mom and dad of foul play- even though looking back at it now, I should have. As an investigator, I should have put my personal feelings aside and considered every angle- even the ones that I thought to be impossible, or that I didn't want to consider. Thankfully I didn't ever have to pay for that blunder. But anyway, the reason why I didn't take that thought to my parents was because I had no way of knowing just how deep it all went. For all I knew, the Artist could have even been somebody within their own cabinet, and I did not want to risk that information being spread around to the wrong ears lest their tactics change and we have to start from square one yet again. The investigation had so many obstacles and dead ends. I refused to be hindered any further.

So I kept my head down, my mouth shut, and my ears open. I attended every meeting, reviewed every case report, and kept scrupulous eyes upon my colleagues. I just knew that somehow or another, they would slip up, and I wanted to be right there when they did so I could bring their reign of terror to a permanent end. However, whomever the Artist was, they were clever. In spite of my heightened attention to everyone around me, I still had no leads. It made me start to doubt myself. Maybe the Artist really WAS gone? Maybe the Artist never really was a part of our pack. Maybe the Artist WAS just some random interloper who targeted our pack for sport and then moved on. Hell, as improbable as it sounded, maybe the Artist was even an omega of all things? I honestly had no idea. But I wouldn't give up. I had to find this killer and bring them to justice somehow.

Humphrey's P.O.V.

The last few days before I left for A-School seemed to fly by. I spent as much time as I could with both my mate and my friends before my departure, and I indulged in as many pleasures as my old life could provide before I shipped out, because I knew that after that day, such behaviors would be unbefitting of my role. My time of drinks, games, fun and folly was nearing an end, and honestly I wasn't sure if I was ready for it, but: "Ready or not," right?

I remember standing with Kate at the base of the hill over which I had watched her disappear as a pup, and as her father beckoned me to follow him, I felt my stomach twist itself into tightly clenched knots. I had no idea what lay in store for me, and Winston, ever the stoic, was no help in my attempts to settle my rattled nerves. I don't know how many times I tried to start a conversation with him in the course of the some thirty minute walk to the base, but each time I did, he would only give me two or three word responses at one time and awkwardness would inevitably choke the conversation into silence. I went from dreading the walk to wishing it would just end pretty quickly, and by the mercy of all that's good and righteous in the world, we eventually entered the base and I was placed in a group of other recruits.

As I walked among them in search of a place to sit, I knew I stuck out like a sore pad. Not only was I the only omega in my class of recruits, I was the oldest by probably close to a year. Hell, I was the same age as, if not maybe even a little bit older than some of the instructors assigned to the Alpha Education and Training Program. I felt dozens of eyes burn into me from all sides as I took a seat in the back of the group and waited for what would surely be my greatest challenge to begin