Page 119 of Generation Omega: Revealed
Gideon chuckles, while freeing me from the nest trap. “Are they here?”
“Almost.” I’m excited, actuallyexcited, and not at all terrified of what comes next.
Told ya. My inner omega is smug and downright giddy too. We’re both solidly onTeam First Heat.
Gideon picks up on my joyous mood, sending lusty vibes my way. “What do you want to do?”
I’m suddenly babbling. “I want to know who they are. Ethan and I have a bet going that one will be a circus clown—we’ll drown that one—and the other a lion tamer. I’ve got five bucks riding on this.”
Gideon almost chokes from laughing so hard. “Drown the clown—copy that. The lion tamer might come in handy when dealing with Thatcher and Kazimir, so let’s keep that one.”
“I want to see them arrive. Is it still dark? I don’t think I can handle sunlight, but I promise I’m still an omega, not a vampire.”
“Good to know, though you do have a little biting habit.” He nuzzles against my head, breathing me in, before leaning and pulling back the curtain.
Yay, it’s still dark, though dawn is probably on its way. I scramble out of the nest, launching pillows in every direction. Gideon follows, grabbing my robe and helping me into it.
When I throw open the door, Ethan is just outside, shirtless and yawning.
“Are they here?” he mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah, let’s go. I want us all to be together when they get here.” Reality slaps me. “Are you ready to see me get allomega-y? Is this okay?”
Ethan leans and kisses my head. “You promised meslutty with a side of feral, and I’m definitely here for that.” He claims my hand so naturally, not worried about my alphas or bondmarks or anything really. Ethan knows he’s welcome, which means Gideon said something to him.
Thank you.
Gideon sends back a wave of love and support for me, for Ethan, for anything that keeps us safe and makes us happy.
Ethan lightly bumps my shoulder. “What about a mad scientist or that dude who taught driver’s ed?”
“No! That guy was seriously creepy.” We start up the first set of steps. “What about a weatherman or a reporter—they might be useful.”
“A criminal defense attorney,” Gideon suggests. “Now,thatwould be helpful.”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “Nope, too boring and practical. I’m still thinking about a noble citizen with a food truck and a soft serve machine, or those colorful, flavored snow cones. That would be a true asset to the pack.”
Kazimir, who’s behind Gideon, surprises me by joining our game. “Hostage negotiator or Special Forces.”
“Those are good,” I say, speaking to him for the first time, “just not as hot as a hockey player, rock star, or quarterback.” I mock gasp. “A therapist wouldn’t be a bad pick, right?”
We all laugh together. It’s an odd, beautiful thing. We need Thatcher. We’re building a pack and that means we all need to be together, to share all thefirsts, the joys and the sorrows.
“Let’s go to the top. I’m sure there are binoculars somewhere on this fancyboat.”
“Yacht,” Ethan and Kazimir correct, and it’s undeniably compelling to hear their voices together.
We reach the main level and then take the stairs to the bridge. Thatcher’s seated behind the wheel, though we aren’t moving anymore. His face is shadowed, the lines hard.
I walk toward him, feeling the way Gideon tenses behind me. “Do you feel them?”
Thatcher doesn’t look at me or move, his muscles locked down and his hands in fists. He’s on the edge of out of control… for me. Why doesn’t that bother me at all?
Because he’s yours… he just needs you to believe in him so that he can believe in himself.I can’t tell whether that’s my omega or the legacy, but it doesn’t really matter.
“No,” Thatcher answers, “but the instincts said to stop.”
Thatcher is my alpha—I have to say it a few times in my head, twisting it around as I try to make peace with it. Everything after those terrible things he said about Ethan is blurred by rage, and I realize I’ve also blocked out everything else I know about him. I think back to the auditorium and all he said and did, understanding now what he meant and what it cost him. Thatcher expected to be shot before he finished his presentation and he stood there anyway, because one thing mattered to him more than his own safety. Mine.
