Page 13 of Omega's Fire

Now I have a better idea of what I’m fighting. It’s just chemistry and if my body wants Nash Thorndike that badly, thenI can deal with it by jerking off the same way I always do. My body might want his body but I don’t wanthim.

Something steadies in me, a calm focus replacing the chaotic emotions of the past few hours. This isn’t over. Not remotely.

I type a quick message to Meg:Official ceremony summons for tomorrow. Not going obviously. Get every press contact you can. We need every favor called in. See if you can get David Glass. He had Thorndike on this week. He’ll love it.

I will not be at the Bureau at 9 AM. I will be at a press conference across town instead, accompanied by other omegas. I’m going to turn this into a public referendum on the entire system. Nash Thorndike can fuck off. Let him try force me to bond when every newspaper, online channel and television has me shouting my refusal.

I am going to burn the Bureau down and Nash Thorndike with it.

Nash

“...refuse to be another statistic,” Leo’s voice fills my bedroom from the television mounted on the wall. “A prime match doesn’t override my right to choose.”

The camera pans across the university plaza, capturing the crowd of supporters surrounding the makeshift podium where Leo stands, beautiful in his righteous anger.

“ Nash Thorndike represents everything wrong with the Bureau,” Leo continues, “the arrogant certainty that his desires trump consent. He doesn’t see omegas as full human beings with our own thoughts and feelings.”

I adjust my tie for the fourth time, studying my reflection while keeping one eye on the television. Despite the clear passion in his voice, Leo looks exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes, tension in his shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands as he grips the podium. My heart aches for him. This is hard on him. I know it is. I wish I could make it easier.

My charcoal suit is perfect. I picked the fabric myself, stood through three fittings to make sure the shoulders sit just right. I’ve had this suit since the day I registered. It’s been hanging in my closet all this time, waiting for the right omega.

Not that Leo Torres will notice my suit. Or care. Or even show up to see it.

Well, I tell myself. He won’t care today, but in a year, he will.He’s going to look back at our bonding day photos with love and then he’ll notice.

“I stand here today as living proof that the Bureau’s system can be challenged,” Leo’s voice rings with conviction as the camera zooms in on his face.

Despite everything, a small, irrational part of me hopes he’ll change his mind. That he’ll realize what I already know: we belong together. That he’ll walk through those Bureau doors at 9 AM, defiant and magnificent and willing to at least consider what exists between us.

And yet...

“You’re ridiculous,” I tell my reflection, not entirely sure if I mean the suit I’ve been saving for him for ten years or the hope that this is going to be easier on both of us than I think it will be.

I switch off the television and reach for Leo’s binder on my dresser, the one he abandoned during his hasty retreat from our Bureau meeting. It smells delicious, just like him.

I flip it open, running my fingers over Leo’s cramped handwriting. There are notes on supposed Bureau policy violations and highlighted sections of my own published papers, annotated with colorful critiques: “False equivalency,” “cherry-picked data,” “confuses correlation with causation.”

Despite myself, I smile. Leo Torres is brilliant. He’s not just passionate, but methodical and intelligent. I’m proud of how he is fighting me, oddly enough. I’m proud of his courage, his conviction and his refusal to be intimidated by institutional power. Even when that power includes me.

I close the binder, tucking it carefully into my briefcase alongside the formal bonding documents. Leo might not attend the ceremony but I’ll be there, even knowing I’ll be alone at the altar.

I straighten my already-perfect tie one final time, square my shoulders, and head for the door. I have a ceremony to attendand an empty chair to stare at.

The traffic is light and I arrive ten minutes earlier than I expect. I use my pass to let myself into the building and make my way to the west side of the building, finding Sun preparing the room.

“Dr. Thorndike.” He greets me with his notes clutched to his chest. “We’re prepared to begin as scheduled. Hopefully, Mr Torres will arrive soon.”

I raise my eyebrows. We both know Leo isn’t coming. He’s across town, holding forth about how evil I am.

“Let’s stick to protocol,” I reply, adjusting my cuffs. “We’ll wait an hour before recording his absence.”

Sun nods, something like pity flashing across his features before his professional mask slides back into place. “Of course. Would you like coffee while you wait?”

“No, thanks.”

Left alone, I move to the ceremonial table with its arranged bonding certificate. Two signature lines. Two crystal glasses for the toast. Two platinum rings in a velvet box.

All empty. All waiting.

---