Page 86 of Omega on Fire

"You wouldn't want me any other way," I counter, gasping as Moses' teeth graze the sensitive juncture of my neck and shoulder.

"No," he agrees, the word vibrating against my skin. "We wouldn't."

What follows transcends simple physical pleasure.This isn't just sex—it's communion. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of praise and encouragement builds a bridge between us, reinforcing bonds that have been forged in fire and blood.

Teagan's usual iron control slips as I take him into my mouth, a broken groan escaping him that sends warmth flooding through me. His fingers tangle in my hair, alternately gripping and releasing as he fights his instinct to guide me. I hum against him, savoring my power over this man who rarely surrenders to anyone.

"Fuck, Charlotte," he rasps, his accent thickening with pleasure.

Beaux's manic energy finds exquisite focus as he maps every sensitive inch of my body. His clever tongue traces the curve of my hip bone, my inner thigh, everywhere but where I need him most. When he finally relents, the hot press of his mouth against my core makes me arch and tremble. My fingers claw at the sheets as he laughs against me, the vibration making me gasp.

"That's it, Harley," he murmurs against slick flesh. "Let me hear you."

Josiah watches me through hooded eyes, always intuitive, reading my responses like they're written in a language only he understands. He knows precisely when to push me toward the edge and when to soothe,his long fingers working inside me with deliberate precision while his other hand caresses my breast.

"You're close," he whispers, not a question but a statement. "But not yet."

And Moses, my quiet sentinel, anchors me through it all. His large hands span my waist, steadying me as the others drive me higher. He presses his lips to my shoulder blades, my spine, the small of my back. His strength becomes my foundation in this storm of sensation, keeping me from being swept away completely.

We move together in a dance with no predetermined steps, following instinct and desire where they lead. Sometimes I'm the focus, surrounded by hands and mouths and murmured praise that makes me blush, even as I arch into their touch. Other times I watch, entranced, as they pleasure each other with the familiarity of long-time lovers, finding new ways to include me in their established rhythms.

There are no designations here—no Alphas, Betas, or Omegas. Just five people who have chosen each other against all odds.

I'm sprawled across Moses' chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath my ear, when Teagan slides inside me from behind. The fullness draws a keening sound from my throat that Beaux captures with his mouth,swallowing my moans as Josiah's clever fingers find my clit.

"Let go, Charlotte," Moses rumbles, large hands framing my face. "We've got you."

And I do. I shatter completely, coming undone in their hands, knowing they'll piece me back together. Teagan follows moments later, his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades, body shuddering against mine.

We collapse in a tangle of limbs, sweat-slicked and breathless, scents mingling until I can no longer distinguish where mine ends and theirs begin. Beaux presses lazy kisses along my collarbone while Josiah traces patterns on my thigh. Moses' hand finds Teagan's, both resting on the curve of my waist.

Outside, the world continues its chaotic tumble toward whatever new order will emerge from the rubble of what we've torn down. There will be battles still to fight, enemies to face, truths to defend.

But here, in this moment, in this nest, it's just us.

My pack. My choice. My home.

EPILOGUE

TRIGGER

One year later

The road stretches ahead like a black ribbon under the moonlight. I feel the weight of my Glock against my hip, the familiar pressure of my tactical vest against my chest. A year ago, we were sitting in a government office, men in suits offering us legitimacy, resources, a place in the system.

Charlotte had stood up, all five-foot-seven of her, curves and confidence wrapped in righteous fury.

"I'm not fighting for politics. I'm not fighting for institutions that let this happen. We do this for us. For them."

That was that. No discussion. The suits couldn'tcomprehend why we'd turn down their offer—official status, bigger paychecks, pensions. They didn't understand Charlotte, my Omega, our heart. They couldn't fathom a woman who'd rather be hunted than tamed, rather be feared than protected. Tonight proves she was right all along.

"Two minutes to intercept." Joker's voice crackles through my earpiece. "Drone footage confirms movement in both trailers. Heat signatures suggest twelve to fifteen bodies per truck."

Beside me, Charlotte checks her weapon, honey-cinnamon scent tinged with the metallic edge of adrenaline. "Remember, we go for the drivers first. Clean shots."

"Yes, ma'am." Beaux grins from the passenger seat, his teeth gleaming in the darkness, that crazy ass glint in his eyes that means someone's about to have a very bad night. "Your Motley is locked and loaded."

I press harder on the accelerator, pushing our blacked-out SUV faster. The highway is deserted at this hour, giving us the perfect hunting ground. Ahead, two sets of taillights glow red in the distance. Our targets.

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