Page 40 of Omega on Fire

I've been called out on sniper nests, interrogated by military brass, and stared down the barrel of a gun more times than I can count. But nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever pinned me in place like Charlotte Matthews’ direct question.

My jaw works before I speak, buying time. "I haven't been avoiding you."

The lie tastes sour on my tongue. Her eyebrow arches, calling my bullshit without a word.

"You want to try that again?" Her arms cross over her chest, accentuating curves and the mouthwatering swell of her breasts that I've been desperately trying not to notice. "Moses had me practicing takedowns yesterday. Beaux has been teaching me how to break zip ties. Even Josiah's showing me surveillance techniques." She steps closer, and I fight the urge to back up. "But you? Nothing. Not even a conversation that lasts longer than two minutes."

I run a hand over my face, dragging fingers through my short hair. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Her voice drops, vulnerability peeking through her armor again. "Because from where I'm standing—you know what, I can't sayrejection because I don't expect anything from you. I shouldn't."

That cuts deeper than she knows. "Charlotte?—"

"Is it because I'm damaged goods now?" The words come out in a rush. "Because they forced my heat? Because I'm?—"

"Stop." The Alpha command nearly slips into my voice, but I catch it, soften it. "Just stop."

I move to the window, needing distance to think clearly. The setting sun casts long shadows across Central Park, the busy city sprawling below us.

"You want the truth?" I turn back to face her. "Fine. I've been keeping my distance because I don't want to trigger your heat."

Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't look away.

"After what you've been through, what you just told me, I don't, we don't want to push you into something you're not ready for." I drag a hand down my face. "Your body's been manipulated and violated. The last thing you need is three Alphas and a Beta making it worse."

"That should be my decision, don't you think?" Her voice is quiet but firm. "You're making choices for me based on what you think I can handle."

She's right, and it pisses me off because I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to protect her.

"How am I supposed to trust you, all of you, when you're actively avoiding me? That's not protection, Teagan. That's abandonment."

The accusation lands like a punch to the gut. "I would never abandon you. As long as you're with us, you are safe, protected."

"No? Then what do you call it?" She steps closer, her scent growing stronger, making my head swim. "I get it. I understand the risks. I know what my heat could mean around you all. But how can I trust you to handle it if you can't even be in the same room with me?"

Something in her voice shifts, becomes smaller. "Unless. . .unless it's not about my trauma at all. Maybe you just don't want someone like me."

I freeze. "What?"

She gestures to herself, and the self-consciousness in the movement makes my chest ache. "I'm not exactly the typical Omega, am I? I'm plus-sized. Outspoken. Not exactly the delicate flower most Alphas want." Her laugh is hollow. "I'm not someone's first choice."

The growl that tears from my throat is involuntary. I pause for only a moment, wondering whether Iam moving too fast and decide I don't give a fuck. Three strides and I'm in front of her again, my hands cupping her face, forcing her to look at me.

"Don't you ever talk about yourself like that again." My voice is low, dangerous. "You think I give a fuck about some bullshit standard? You think any of us do?"

Her eyes are wide, startled by my reaction.

"You are exactly what I want. What we all want. Every. Fucking. Curve." I emphasize each word, letting my gaze travel down her body and back up to her eyes. "I have wanted you since the moment I saw you on that screen in this very office, giving that speech about Omega rights. Your fire, your passion, your strength. Christ, Charlotte, it's intoxicating."

Her lips part in surprise, and it takes everything in me not to claim them.

"We're soldiers. Mercenaries. But we are fucking gentlemen." I can't help the smirk that crosses my face. "At least, we try to be. And none of us wanted to scare you or push you before you were ready."

She stares at me for a long moment, her warm brown eyes searching mine for any sign of deception. Finding none, she steps forward, eliminating the space between us, and tilts her face up.

"Maybe I'm ready for you to stop being such a gentleman," she whispers.

That's all it takes. I pull her into my arms again, one hand at the small of her back, the other cradling her head. Her body fits against mine like she was made for me, soft curves pressing into hard muscle.

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