Page 15 of Generation Omega: Revealed
What the heck am I thinking? Did these omegees put a spell on me, or are there psychedelics in the knotty brownies I’ve been secretly gorging all day?
But then she’s standing before me, completely in focus while the rest of the world blurs into oblivion. She smiles so beautifully, while blurting words I can’t hear over the thundering power of her presence. She glows so brightly that I can barely make out her features, only I know she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld. And the fragrance that’s now fully embracing me is hers.
I’m breathing it in, tasting it in my soul, desperate to taste it directly from its source. It grasps hold of me, unraveling walls, deconstructing false foundations, reorienting my place in the world. My life alters in shuddering shock waves that would leave me bereft if not for the overwhelming sense of purpose that fills all the sudden cracks in the life I once knew.
For each moment that passes, the taste inspires deeper thoughts and feelings, as though my palette has awakened to a purity I never thought to seek. If hope had a scent, this would be it. Visions light in my mind, of childhood, long summers with nowhere to be other than playing outside, lightning bugs on warm nights, freedom—orange and vanilla cream colliding, a decadently rich flavor I’ll never forget or ever get my fill. The potency of her scent is so encompassing that it renders every memory hollow in comparison, as though what I smelled or tasted before this moment was muffled by undeveloped senses that couldn’t handle truth.
It takes seconds—possibly years—to realize that I’m smiling at her in a way I don’t smile, like my joy and relief can’t be suppressed any longer. Then Marcella’s speaking and snapping pictures and I’m beside this compelling woman, lost, her presence the only pull in my life.
Then we touch, just a brush of her side against mine, and my heart seizes almost painfully, its natural cadence disrupted for a few startling seconds before it finds a new rhythm. Hers. My heart just synchronized with hers, and I’m suddenly aware of just how giddy she is to be near me. With a bitter edge, I also sense how full her heart is for the man with her. I hadn’t noticed him at all and now I might hate him.
I can’t let her go, so I summon the only words I can think of to keep her close. “Take another,” I snap at Marcella, as my arm moves around her, capturing her, feeling her smooth skin under my hand. Everywhere we touch warms and tingles, our connection spinning webs to keep us joined.
The man she loves moves away, but I can’t move and I don’t want her to take even one step away from me. I stall, introducing myself as though she doesn’t know my name. Her hand in mine… yes, I want her hand in mine.
When the man reaches for her, my grip on her tightens. I want to fight. I want to claim. Ineedto claim her.
The man is unbothered and speaks words that cause her heart to leap. A lecture. She wants to be there, and I want her to have everything she’s ever desired. That alone allows me to release her, but without her touch, the sea rises to overwhelm me.
“Enjoy the rest of the convention,” I say soullessly and then she’s gone.
But I still taste her.
I still feel her heartbeat pounding along with mine.
I still smell her.
I still want her, as though she was made for me.
The line finally ends, with the final few people rushing to reach the auditorium before the lecture begins.
“You officially survived and achieved your goals,” Marcella declares. “I’ll let your sister know, and I’ll pack everything up. Do you want me to call for the car? Titus is hanging out a few miles from here.”
I turn and look toward the exit and then in the other direction, where she walked, where I will follow. Her scent still lingers, calling to me in a voice that can’t be ignored.
“I’m going to the lecture. More research is always good.”
Marcella’s eyebrows raise dramatically. “But you’ve already made the movie. You’re next one is a sequel to a western and then there’s zombies, aliens, and that indie film with zero ties to the omegaverse.”
I don’t respond, because no words could explain why I’m powerless against this force demanding that I move toward the only destination that will ever matter.
I’m aware that I’m not making sense, but that doesn’t stop me because there is no warning inside me, just rightness, connection, and hope. If I’m drugged by devious omegees, I hope I never sober, because purpose feels too damn good to fight.
CHAPTER8
TILLIE
We quicken our pace as we join the omegee parade heading toward the auditorium. I fit right in, a bubbly girl floating along in a sparkly helium balloon of delight. Wonder is an addicting thing. Gideon Blake may also be instantly addicting because I can’t get him out of my head, where he’s shirtless and lounging in my nest. It’s also quite possible that he has superpowers because it feels like he lassoed me with his attractiveness and is currently releasing just enough rope to let me reach my destination, without ever actually letting me go.
It takes a few more seconds to realize that I still feel everywhere he touched me, warmth and tingling where his fingers brushed along the bare skin on my arm and also my side where we gently collided.
Before I can obsess about what any of that means, we reach the double doors and enter the large space with the hundreds of others who are ready to learn everything we never knew about the omegaverse. Ethan’s height comes in handy and he immediately leads us toward the last row, six seats over, where we claim two open seats.
“This is pretty epic,” Ethan says over the excited hum of the crowd. “It’s like a rave for the mind in here.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “As much as I’m thrilled to be here for this, there is no way it will top that rave last night.” I pull away, but only so I can see his face when I speak the words I need to share as much as he needs to hear them. “When you arrived at my dorm yesterday, it was the best moment of my life. I’d been missing you more than I’d let on and then you were there. I didn’t even have to count down the hours, minutes, and seconds because I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t have to worry about you in your truck for hours. You were just there, and if we hadn’t gone anywhere, it would have been the best day I could have had.”
Dang it—sniffles are making themselves known, but I ignore them and hope he does too. “But then you were helping me pack and we were heading to the airport and arriving at this convention I’ve been dreaming about for years. The rave, your auntie’s place, everything today—you’ve created so manybeststhat I don’t think I could possibly deserve more if I live a hundred years.”
