Page 103 of Generation Omega: Revealed
The knowledge of how much of my heart is already bound to him.
This is the chain I built, locking my life to Ethan’s and denying any other possibilities.
All of that is true, but there is something darker here—an idea planted during my childhood that makes me ache, hasalwaysmade me ache.
The way I used Ethan as proof of my worth—if I had a friend as wonderful as Ethan, then I wasn’t worthless.
That wasn’t fair to Ethan, but it was also toxic to me. That false belief, so deeply held, is what’s preventing me from accepting my future.
To fully commit to Gideon and the omegaverse, I must challenge old beliefs.
Even if Ethan leaves me, my life still matters.
I’m worthy of living a beautiful life of purpose and connection.
I’m worthy of being Gideon Blake’s fated mate.
I deserve the pleasure of his knot and all the salacious things we’ll do together.
I deserve his bite. I deserve to be loved. I deserve to matter.
This chain, I break, and as soon as I do, Gideon’s knot begins to vibrate and bliss becomes my state of being. The shine of his teeth inspires me to reveal my own and, not even a breath later, he bites between my neck and shoulder, snarling, his fingers bruising as if I’m actually fighting his control. I don’t think—I can’t—as my teeth find the same spot on him and I dig in, releasing my own little snarl as I claim him.
“Mine,” he growls.
“Mine,” I answer.
The world will never be the same, not for us or anyone else. Change has come.
CHAPTER46
GIDEON
It’s not quiet. It’s not peaceful. It’s a demolition, the absolute destruction of who we were apart from each other. My knot vibrates inside Tillie and her slick covers me, as she exists in the eye of a climax storm, unable to catch her breath. My arms wrap around her, keeping her close, our bond electrifying us both. Our hearts are war drums providing the impressive soundtrack for this unforgettable, unbreakable merging of souls.
Together, we breathe.
Together, we live.
Togetherforever.
The second wave hits and more walls collapse, images suddenly illuminating in our minds. They are hazy at first, before becoming crystal clear. Tillie pulls back, her gorgeous blue-grey eyes widening as she catches her first glimpse of me as a child. It’s right that my memories are offered first, and not just because my past is a safer place to wander than hers.
A sweet smile forms as Tillie watches the movie of my life, long before I stood in front of any camera. My ears were my most defining trait as a boy, sticking out quite enthusiastically. Fortunately, I eventually grew into them. From first steps to graduation, all my life is presented to my beautiful mate. She meets my family and witnesses the beginning of my career from industrious bartender to the pinnacle of acting success.
I don’t just share the high points. I give her every wound, every lonely night on sets, in hotels and mansions, where I sat alone, wondering whether I would ever be more than a man paid to pretend he actually exists. I reveal to her who I am—flaws and all—and why I’m certain that I was always waiting for her. I was always her alpha, just counting the minutes until she found me.
When we reach today—including everything I felt during our practice rut—Tillie’s gaze darkens, a wordless warning to prepare me for her life story. What surprises me is how bold she is, how ready to unveil her history, defiant even. It’s like a mandatory spring cleaning, as though she sprayedShame Be Goneand is throwing open the windows to allow light and fresh air into all her shadowy places.
It only takes a few seconds to realize how much easier it was to share my life than to observe hers. I can’t restrain a series of snarls at seeing Tillie, as a small girl, studying the people who orbited her life, never actually connecting with their only child. Before she spoke in full sentences, she’d already learned the futility of crying. Each night, while her parents pursued their pleasure, Tillie sat alone in a house that was never a home.
Devastating—that’s the only way to describe Tillie’s childhood. She hid every art project and gold-star adorned assignment in her closet, all her triumphs concealed rather than having them belittled or ignored. At night, when scary noises kept her awake, she’d hide in that closet, sleeping on clothes she cleaned and folded, hugging a stuffed moose given to her by a neighbor and maligned by her parents aschildish.
Tillie’s openly weeping and so am I. My beautiful woman should never have had to endure any of that. She shares the moment she met Ethan in their first-grade classroom and then provides a slide show of their greatest hits. Tillie was never as alone with him in her life, but he suffered his own loss, his father in a fire that could have claimed Ethan’s life. Almost losing her best friend made Tillie fiercer, more protective, but also extremely fragile. Life felt even less safe when a tiny flame could destroy a grown man and a house thatwasa home.
After that, Tillie always battled with herself not to hold Ethan too tightly, not to suffocate him, not to force him to love her, commit to her, or promise to never leave her. Tillie went to art school in another city because she feared that her hold on him was driving him to fight.
Without him, Tillie became the shell of who she’d been when he was near. Trapped in her own shame, she was more vulnerable to her parents’ words that were always the blades that cut her deepest.Ethan’s got important things to do. You can’t always cling to him. He can do a lot better than you.
