Page 68 of Omega on Fire

I manage to nuzzle against his chest, a wordless acknowledgment as he carries me. The world blurs around me, fatigue pulling me under like a rip tide. The ride home, soft conversation as they take care of me. I register being lowered onto something soft, abed and then surrounded by warmth as bodies settle around me.

Someone, incense, hmm, Moses, presses a glass to my lips, and I swallow automatically, the cool water soothing my throat. Fingers comb through my hair, massage my scalp. Gentle kisses are pressed to my shoulders, my temple, the palm of my hand.

"Sleep now," Teagan's voice, low and commanding even in tenderness.

I surrender to the pull of exhaustion, safe in the knowledge that I'm where I belong. As consciousness slips away, I don't fight it. Whatever comes tomorrow, we'll face it together.

My last coherent thought is of how right this feels, surrounded by their scents, their warmth, their protection. Four heartbeats creating a symphony with mine.

I don't remember drifting off, I don’t remember how our limbs arranged themselves as sleep claimed us all. I only know that I fell asleep in the arms of men who had claimed me, wholly and completely, and whom I had claimed in return.

CHAPTER 25

CHARLOTTE

Iwake to sunlight streaming through the curtains of my nest, my body deliciously sore. For a moment, I lie still, cataloguing sensations: sheets tangled around my legs, the press of warm bodies against mine, the mingled scents of four men surrounding me.

Extracting myself carefully from the tangle of limbs, so reminiscent of my heat, Teagan's arm draped across my waist, Moses pressed against my back, Beaux and Joker somehow entwined on my other side. None of them stir as I slip from the bed, their faces peaceful in sleep. This is what I want. This is what I thought I would never have.

My legs wobble slightly as I pad to the bathroom. Catching sight of myself in the mirror I see a womanstaring back that looks thoroughly wrecked. I run my hands through the wild mess that is my hair and chuckle. Because, yeah, this sight looks familiar. My lips are swollen, skin marked with evidence of last night's activities.

I turn on the shower, cranking the heat until steam fills the room, and step under the spray. The hot water cascades over my sensitive skin, and I close my eyes, letting it wash over me. Last night. Christ. My mind replays fragments in vivid detail: my body being used thoroughly by Teagan and Beaux, the reverent touch of Moses’ hands, the taste of Joker on my tongue. Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember begging, pleading, demanding more. I've never lost control so completely, never surrendered so fully.

And I said I belonged to them. The thought should terrify me. I've built my entire identity around independence, around proving that Omegas don't need Alphas to survive, to thrive. Yet here I am, claimed by not one Alpha but three and my beautiful Beta.

I reach for the soap, working it into a lather as I consider the implications. This doesn't change anything, my work, my public image, my future will continue. I will just have the backing of good men by my side. Senator Blaine will use this against me but fuck him.

The bastard is smart, I'll give him that. Having the face of the Omega Rights Movement at his event creates the perfect illusion—that even radicals like me support his ‘protective’ legislation. His proposed Omega Protection Act is nothing but thinly veiled oppression, stripping away the rights we've fought decades to secure.

My hand tightens around the soap. Last night was my chance to expose him, to show the world what he really is: the monster behind the increasing number of Omega disappearances, the architect of a modern slave trade disguised as traditional values. A few people recorded our exchange, but will it be enough? Probably not after the paparazzi and their fake speculation of why I was there in the first place.

But after last night will anyone take me seriously? Will they?—

The shower door slides open, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. Deacon stands there, eyes dark with concern and something else that makes my pulse quicken.

"You're thinking too loud," he says softly, stepping into the shower without waiting for an invitation. "I could practically hear you from the bedroom."

Water sluices down his magnificent body, highlighting the defined muscles of his chest and arms.The cross tattoo on his neck seems to shift with each movement, a reminder of the faith he rejected to forge his own path.

"This changes everything," I whisper, voicing the fear that's been clawing at my insides. "The gala last night, I can only imagine what's trending about me on social media. Pictures of us. Me with a pack."

He steps closer, his hands finding my waist with gentle surety. "You know the truth. Who cares what people think? You're going to set the record straight."

"They'll say I'm a hypocrite. That I've betrayed everything I stand for." My voice catches. "The Senator will use it to discredit me, to prove his point that Omegas can't function without Alpha control."

Deacon's eyes darken, the scent of incense and myrrh intensifying. "Is that what you think happened? That we controlled you?"

"No," I answer honestly. "But that's how they'll spin it."

His large hands slide up my sides to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. "Then we'll spin it differently. You choosing us doesn't negate your message, it reinforces it. You made a choice, sweet one. Your choice."

Water runs between us, creating rivulets that trace the contours of our bodies. He's right, I realize.Choice has always been at the heart of my activism. The right to choose whether to bond, whom to bond with, when and how and if.

"Besides," he continues, leaning down to brush his lips against my forehead, "no one has to know about us, not until you're ready to tell them."

The simple certainty in his voice loosens something tight in my chest. I’ll tell my parents, of course. I’m sure my mother will want to fly to New York and make sure I’m still her daughter. But my parents will know my guys are the real deal if I’ve given them my heart. My heart. Yeah, I guess I have. Mercy, Faith, and Freeya have all been in the same boat and I’m sure they will give me that ‘I told you so’ look. Brookes though, well, my Brookie is another matter altogether. Ultimately, they’ll understand what's at stake, not just for me, but for all Omegas.

"I have a plan," I tell him, pressing my palms against his chest. "I'm going to go live and tell the world the truth. I'm going to expose Blaine, show the world what he's been doing. The trafficking ring, the kidnappings, all of it."

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