Page 49 of Knotting the Firefighters
Bear is my pack brother.
We don't compete over Omegas.
We've maintained clear boundaries for years specifically to avoid this complication.
But watching his hands on her skin, seeing concern that transcends professional courtesy, witnessing whatever connection they've apparently built in the hours since I left her unconscious?—
This is a problem.
This is going to become massive problem.
Movement in my peripheral vision draws attention—someone pushing past me with determined stride, completely ignoring my presence like I'm irrelevant obstacle rather than fire captain and scene authority.
The scent hits first.
Pine and bourbon and woodsmoke.
Familiar as my own reflection, devastating as physical assault, carrying memories I've spent years trying to bury beneath professional achievement and careful emotional distance.
Calder Hayes.
My body reacts before conscious thought catches up—temperature rising, hands clenching, every muscle tensing with complex mixture of longing and resentment and fury that time hasn't diminished despite my best efforts.
Why is he here?
How did he know?
Why does he still smell exactly like memory, like home, like every mistake I've ever made?
All eyes track his progress as he makes beeline straight toward Chief Murphy, his focus singular, his determination absolute. He moves with the kind of purpose that suggestsnothing will divert him, nobody will stop him, consequences are irrelevant compared to reaching his destination.
I watch—frozen, paralyzed by shock and recognition and dawning horror—as Calder reaches Murphy.
As his hands cup her face with familiar tenderness.
As he tilts her head up to meet his eyes.
As he crushes his mouth to hers in a kiss that speaks of possession, relief, terror transformed into physical claiming.
The world narrows to that single point of contact—their lips meeting, her body melting into his with recognition that transcends conscious choice, his arms wrapping around her waist like he's afraid she'll disappear if he loosens his grip.
Hayes girl.
The nickname echoes through my skull with new, devastating context.
"Hayes girl" isn't rumor or speculation.
It's fact.
It's relationship.
It's the Omega who might have just single-handedly taken my promoted position being kissed?—
The thought fractures, unable to complete itself, because completing it requires acknowledging truths I'm not remotely prepared to examine.
That Chief Wendolyn Murphy—decorated firefighter, stubborn hero, the Omega my body has decided belongs in our pack—is intimately connected to Calder Hayes.
My ex.
