Page 31 of Omega's Fire

“So,” she hesitates, “do you want to go straight back home? Or would you rather have company right now?”

The thought of an empty room in that abandoned office building makes something cold curl through my stomach. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.

“Company,” I say immediately. “If that’s okay.”

Meg’s face brightens. “Good, because we have some celebrating to do. This is huge, Leo. Judge Harlowe’s decision is all over the news. It’s the first legal row back we’ve had.”

She launches into the details of the judgement and the names, cases, legal statutes that were cited. I nod at the right intervals and make mmm mmm sounds, but her words are washing over me like water over stone. I can’t seem to pay attention.

All I can see is Nash’s face in that final moment—not thearrogant man I’ve been fighting, just a man who wanted me desperately and was rejected.

I don’t want you. That’s what I said.

“...and Jules is writing up a press release now,” Meg is saying as we pull up to her building. “Nothing too detailed. We’re thinking—”

“Sounds good,” I murmur, as she parks and turns off the engine. My limbs feel leaden, and even the thought of getting out of the car feels exhausting.

Meg touches my arm lightly. “Hey. You okay?”

“Just tired.” I force a smile. “Almost two weeks of sleeping with one eye open takes a toll.”

Meg squeezes my arm once before letting go. “Well, brace yourself for some energy, because everyone’s dying to see you.”

I’m not prepared for the wave of noise that hits me when we enter Meg’s apartment. Bodies press forward, familiar faces bright with triumph, voices calling my name. Someone thrusts a drink into my hand while another claps me on the back, hard enough to make me stumble.

“The man of the hour!”

“There he is!”

“Leo fucking Torres!”

I smile automatically and let myself be pulled into hugs, accepting congratulations with nods and grins. They’re my people. My community. The ones who’ve stood beside me from the beginning. A banner hung across Meg’s living room screams ‘WELCOME HOME LEO’ in bold letters.

“Speech!” someone calls, and others take up the cry. “Speech, speech!”

I raise my hands in surrender, buying time to gather my scattered thoughts. These are my friends, my fellow fighters. They deserve the fire that has always driven me.

“I don’t know what to say,” I begin, voice steadier than I feel.“Except... thank you. For looking after my stuff. For not letting up on the court challenge. For keeping the pressure up while I was gone. For not letting me be one more lost omega.”

Approving murmurs ripple through the room.

“What was it like?” someone calls from near the kitchen. “Being stuck with Thorndick?”

An unexpected surge of protectiveness flares in my chest.Thorndick. I used to call him that too but now I don’t really like it.Ugh. He’s really got under my skin.

“Illuminating,” I say carefully. “It confirmed everything we’ve been saying all along. They think if they put the right bodies close to each other, nature will do the rest.”

I take a sip of my drink, buying time. The faces watching me are hungry for more, and I know what they want to hear.

“Thorndike was exactly what you’d expect,” I continue. “He’s convinced he’s right. He was convinced I’d come around. He’s as awful as you can imagine.”

These people need Nash Thorndike the villain, not the man who’d stood in a kitchen arguing passionately about ethics and evolution. Not the man who let me take the bed, who stood and waited for me to say ‘yes’ even at the height of my heat. Certainly not the man who’d looked at me like I was something miraculous, even while I was walking away.

“But here I am,” I finish, raising my glass. “Proof that no one can force us into anything we don’t want.”

The room erupts in cheers. More drinks appear and music starts playing as the celebration settles into its rhythm, conversations breaking out in clusters.

I move among them, smiling when appropriate, nodding at the right moments, but the disconnect only grows stronger with each passing minute. Every time someone disparages Nash, I feel that same protective flare. Every time someone congratulates me on “putting Thorndike in his place,” Iremember the expression on Nash’s face.

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