Page 54 of Omega's Fire

The phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number:This is Nash. Are you alright?

My heart jumps. I want to hear from him. God, I should never have gone to his office. Meg was right.

Just this simple message has my heart racing and feeling needy and pathetic.

I stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Then I delete the message without responding and block the number.

I need to think. I need to figure out how to fix this mess I’ve made.

Morning comes too soon, dragging me from restless sleep filled with dreams of Nash’s hands. We’d slept together during my heat, not as a euphemism for sex but actual sleeping. I’d kept close to him, his body warm and comforting against mine. I’d told myself it was the heat doing it and it didn’t count while the heat was still going, but it felt so good. I want that now. I don’t want to get up. I want to have woken up in bed with Nash, his arms around me and his scent surrounding me, warm and safe and comfortable.

Instead, I feel sluggish, nauseous, the pregnancy symptoms hitting harder than usual. Stress always makes them worse and I’ve got a job to get to.

The bus ride to Brennan & Wallace is torture. Every bump makes my stomach lurch, and the scent of someone’s coffee makes me gag. An older woman offers me her seat, and I accept gratefully, pressing a hand to my belly as another wave of nausea hits.

Maybe this is karma. Maybe this is what I deserve for betraying everything I believed in and fucking Nash Thorndike for no good reason.

Still, I need to get my life in order. I’ve got a baby coming in just a few months and I’m not even close to ready. That needs to change right now.

I badge through security on unsteady legs and take the elevator to the fourteenth floor.

Eliza Wallace’s office door stands open. I knock and peer inside, forcing a smile.

“Leo!” She looks up from her computer, face brightening. “Perfect timing. Come in, come in.”

I settle into the chair across from her desk, trying to ignore how the leather makes my skin crawl.

“Did you want to discuss the Johnson hearing?” she says. “Your work was excellent by the way. Great attention to detail.”

“No, there’s something I need to tell you.” I take a deep breath and immediately regret it. The scent of her perfume is far too sweet. “I’m pregnant. Five months along.”

Her eyes shift immediately to my belly and I see realization light up in her eyes. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

Relief sweeps through me. Brennan & Wallace is one of the more progressive law firms but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have reacted badly.

I grin. “Thank you. I just want to let you know it’s not going to make a difference to my job. This is such a wonderful opportunity and I can’t wait to be on the benches at the Johnson trial.”

Something shifts in her expression. A flicker of... pity? “Oh, sweetheart, but won’t you be...?”

My stomach clenches. “I’ll be what?”

“Well, you’re expecting in January, aren’t you?” Her voice is gentle, which somehow makes it worse. “The Johnson case will require intensive preparation through your entire third trimester. Late nights, depositions, extended court appearances.”

“I can handle it,” I insist, but my voice sounds weak even to me. “I’ve already started researching the precedents.”

“Oh, honey.” She leans forward, expression full of sympathy. “You’ll have a newborn. You’ll need time to recover, to bond. And without a partner to help...” She trails off delicately.

There it is. The real issue. Single omega, no alpha, unreliable.

“I’m not planning an extended maternity leave,” I say, desperation creeping in. “Just a few weeks, then back part-time.”

She shakes her head sadly. “That’s not realistic, especially for a first-time parent. The sleepless nights, the feeding schedule, the doctor’s appointments. You’ll be overwhelmed.”

“I can manage my own schedule. My grades haven’t suffered.”

“No one’s questioning your abilities,” she says, but her tone suggests otherwise. “It’s just practical resource allocation. We need someone who can commit fully to the timeline.”

The words punch me in the gut. “I see.”

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