Page 36 of Omega on Fire

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” I wink.

Once they disappear to torture our reluctant Omega, I return to my monitors. My domain. While the Alphas handle the physical, I track the digital footprints of every threat that might come sniffing around our newfound treasure.

Speaking of Alphas—Teagan’s avoidance technique is becoming painfully obvious. The man’s been gone more than he’s been home this week, scheduling meetings, missions, anything to avoid being in the same room as Charlotte. Charlotte notices. She’s too smart not to.

Last night at dinner her eyes kept darting to the empty chair at the head of the table. “Does your fearless leader ever eat with the rest of you?” she’d asked, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly.

“Teagan’s schedule is unpredictable,” Moses hadsaid smoothly. But I saw the flicker of disappointment.

We’re never all together around her. It’s deliberate—a rotation, carefully orchestrated to manage pheromones. But our Omega is connecting the dots.

After her morning torture session, Charlotte usually finds her way to me. My lab’s become her sanctuary.

“What are you working on today, tech wizard Jo-Jo?” she asks, dropping into the chair beside mine, flushed and damp from her shower. Her scent wraps around me—stronger now, more comfortable. These moments are becoming my religion.

“Tracking a ghost,” I tell her, showing the code sequences I’m using to trace whoever leaked a list of the rescued Omegas to the press—including her. “Whoever did this knows how to cover their tracks.”

She leans closer, warmth bleeding into my side. “You’ll find them. You’re too smart not to.”

Simple faith in her voice. Dangerous things stir in me. I want to prove her right. Be worthy of that confidence. I’ve always been the odd one out—the neurodiverse Beta in a pack of dominant Alphas. I made myself indispensable. But Charlotte just sees me. When she laughs at my jokes or asks about my work,I feel something I never expected. Belonging. Not to the pack. To her.

“You know they’re avoiding being together around me on purpose, right?”

I consider lying, then shrug. “Yeah.”

“Because they think I’ll go into heat if I’m around too many Alphas at once?”

“Something like that.”

“What about you? Why aren’t you avoiding me?”

The question hits harder than I expect. I turn to her. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” Her answer is immediate. “You’re the only one who makes me feel normal here. I know my heat is coming. I know it’ll trigger things I don’t want to remember. I’m trying to be strong despite what I went through.”

I shouldn’t feel pleased, but I do. “As a Beta?—”

“It’s not just the Beta thing,” she interrupts. “It’s you, Josiah. You don’t look at me like I’m a problem to solve or a prize to win.”

Something shifts. I want to tell her she’s wrong—I do see her as a prize. But I don’t. Instead, I reach out and tuck a curl behind her ear. Her pulse jumps.

“I look at you exactly how you deserve to be looked at, Charlotte.”

"How do I deserve to be looked at, Josiah?" Hervoice is soft, barely above a whisper, but it resonates through me like a gunshot. Those big brown eyes search mine, demanding an answer I'm not sure she's ready to hear.

I lean in, letting my fingers linger on the curve of her jaw. Her skin is warm, inviting, and I can feel her pulse quicken under my touch. "You deserve to be looked at like you're the center of the fucking universe, Charlotte. Because to me, you are."

Her breath hitches, and she leans closer, close enough that our breaths mingle, so close, that I can taste the faint hint of cinnamon on her lips. Her eyes flutter closed as she brushes her mouth against mine, a tentative, electric touch that sets every nerve ending in my body ablaze.

But then she pulls away, quick as a heartbeat, eyes wide with uncertainty. Not fear, she's not afraid of me. She's afraid of this, of whatever the hell is happening between us.

"I, I should go," she stammers, pushing back her chair with a scrape that echoes through the lab like a record scratch. "Brookes will worry if I don't check in."

I nod, trying to hide the disappointment that surges through me. "Yeah, of course. Wouldn't wanthim alerting the national guard or hiring assassins to hunt us down."

She offers me a small, apologetic smile before disappearing down the hall, leaving me reeling in her wake. My fingers drift to my lips, tracing the ghost of her kiss. Fuck, I can still feel her—still taste her. And I want more. I slump back in my chair, running a hand over my hair.

But it's not about possession, not really. It's about connection. About the fact that she feels comfortable with me, close to me. Close enough to kiss me, even if it was just a fleeting brush of lips. That's something none of the others have achieved yet. Not Beaux with his wild intensity, not Moses with his quiet strength, and certainly not Teagan.

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