Page 41 of Omega on Fire

"Now that I've touched you," I murmur against her hair, breathing in her intoxicating scent, "I don't think I'll ever stop."

If she wants my attention, she'll definitely get it. Heat be damned. It's inevitable.

CHAPTER 16

CHARLOTTE

I’m not sure what I expected from virtual therapy in a luxury penthouse with skyline views and a bulletproof security system. This feels surreal. Like I'm living the life I would have had if things had been different, if my parents hadn't raised me the way they did, encouraging my independent spirit, to fight for the betterment of my designation. Like I sought a pack and all the trappings that being entangled with multiple men entailed. Although, I don't feel that around Teagan, Moses, Beaux, and Josiah. With them I feel nothing but free.

The screen flickers to life on the new laptop Beaux practically wrestled me to the ground to accept. I mean, the man doesn't understand the word no. He just pats me on the head andkisses my forehead whilst shoving new things at me daily. At this point, I open my door in the morning with my arms outstretched in acceptance of his many offerings.

A woman appears, mid-40s maybe, locs tied back, warm brown eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses. She’s not smiling, but her energy is soft. Grounded.

“Charlotte,” she says, voice low and even, like velvet. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Dr. Eliza Monroe. Take your time, there’s no pressure to talk before you’re ready.”

I stare at the blinking cursor in the corner of the screen. My mouth is dry. Teagan's office feels too quiet despite the hum of Josiah’s server tower down the hall.

“Is it okay if I’m not okay?” I ask, voice smaller than I mean it to be.

Dr. Monroe nods, no hesitation. “Absolutely. There’s no expectation for you to be okay today. Or tomorrow. You survived something catastrophic. Being here at all is more than enough for now.”

My throat tightens. “They keep telling me I’m strong. That I fought. That I survived.” I press my fingers to my temples. “But some days it doesn’t feel like surviving. It feels like I’m waiting to break apart.”

“Because survival isn’t always a clean line,” shesays. “Sometimes it’s messy. Loud. Quiet. Angry. Numb. It doesn’t look one way. Tell me, Charlotte, how are you surviving right now?”

I pause. Then: “I joke. I shut down. I pretend like I’m fine so no one worries too much. Because if I fall apart, they’ll feel obligated to fix me. And I don’t want that.”

She tilts her head. “You don’t want to be seen as broken.”

“Exactly,” I reply, nodding my head adamantly.

“And what if I told you that your pain doesn’t make you broken? That being traumatized doesn’t erase your worth or your strength?”

My throat feels tight again. I look down at my hands, clenched in my lap.

“I feel confused,” I whisper. “My body still responds to them. To the guys, I mean the pack. I crave their touch sometimes and it makes me feel disgusting. Like, how dare I want that after what happened?—”

“You’re not disgusting,” she interrupts gently but firmly. “Charlotte, your body is responding to safety. To presence. That doesn’t invalidate your trauma. It means part of you is still alive, still capable of connection. That’s powerful.”

I breathe, shaky and uncertain. “But what if myheat comes? I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’ll do. What they’ll do. They say I’m safe, but part of me. . .part of me is bracing for pain. For those memories to tarnish something that could be more.”

Dr. Monroe is quiet for a moment, then says, “Consent doesn’t disappear because of biology. Neither does safety. If your heat comes, what matters is that you get to decide what happens. Not instinct. Not past trauma. You.”

The weight of those words presses against my chest. A small, fragile flicker of power I almost forgot I still had.

“I’m scared they’ll see me differently,” I admit. “That I’ll lose control and they’ll just act. And I won’t stop them. Because maybe I’ll want it. But also, maybe I won’t.”

Dr. Monroe nods slowly. “Then your next step is simple: talk to them. Create boundaries before your heat comes. Set the terms while you still feel grounded. And Charlotte. . .”

“Yeah?”

“You are allowed to want. To feel. To choose. Desire doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

Talk to them. I nod. Yes, that I can do. I know that they will listen because they've been listening theentire time I've been here. They are just as worried as I am and, in a sense, it gives me hope.

DEACON

The faint sound of Charlotte thanking someone draws me to a halt outside Teagan's office. I hover near the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt what sounds like the tail end of her therapy session. I'd promised to collect her once she was done, take her through some basic self-defense training. Something practical to help her feel more secure.

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