Page 45 of Generation Omega: Revealed
“I don’t care what you do.” But that’s a lie and we both know it. She cares. She needs this contact, but she won’t demand it, beg for it, or even acknowledge it.
“All right then.”
Our dismount from the SUV isn’t the most graceful, but there are no paparazzi to catch this bare-chested look of ours. If one mistakenly showed up, Titus would ensure that one less photographer roams the land. With our removed clothing in one hand and my other resting against her back, her legs now wrapped around my waist, I carry Tillie to the elevator that is already open and waiting for us, with Titus standing beside it.
“Take good care of our little savior,” Titus says, giving us a nod as the doors begin to close.
“That’s all I live for now.” He hears my answer and so does Tillie.
Once the elevator starts moving, I glance down and catch sight of Tillie’s adorable scowl. She’s glaring up at me as though she could, in fact, burn my head off with her beautiful blue-grey eyes.
I desperately try to conceal my inappropriate amusement at just how fierce her expression is, when her features are as delicate as an angel’s. Then I flash back to that quick-drying concrete analogy and want to kick myself. “What is it, Tillie? What’s wrong?”
Her forehead knots and her gaze grows colder, so different from the warmth of our bodies. “You mean that, don’t you?”
I inhale her scent that proves more than anything that all of this is real. “Mean what?”
Tillie looks away as though she can’t stand the sight of me, which might hurt if she didn’t immediately and unconsciously nuzzle against me. “That you nowliveto take care of me, something you never would have wanted without being compelled bybiology.” My little omega releases the lion cub’s version of a growl. “I always thought it would be so romantic.Biologyalways seemed powerful and right, allfated matesand unbreakable bonds.”
The sudden return of her sniffles hits me hard. “But it’s not like that at all, is it? It’s my best friend—the love of my life—shottwice… I didn’t know he was shot twice. I didn’t notice the first time, only the second.” Tillie’s body trembles as her mind attempts to return her to the alley, to form a picture I hoped she’d never see. But now, she’s blaming herself for what I concealed from her.
“The shot came from a sniper. It hit him and the dumpster.”
I feel her recognition—she heard the sound, just didn’t know its meaning. “He did all of that with a bullet hole in him?”
“Yes. He’s an actual badass—I just play one on the big screen.”
“He can’t die… he can’t…”
“Shh, baby girl, it’s not over. You didn’t block out that whole business about your new alpha, did you?”
She cringes, but into me instead of away. “No, but I can’t think about him right now. I can’t feel him at all, only the loss of Ethan. If I could feel something then maybe I could believe it’s true, but I don’t feel anything.”
“You feel me, don’t you?” I soothe, brushing my chin against her head.
“You’re so warm.”
“So are you.”
The elevator reaches the penthouse and the doors open. I step into the entry and turn to lock the elevator on the control panel—we’ll have no random visitors disturbing us today.
Without even trying to look around, Tillie asks, “What is this place?”
“One of my secret getaways—I have a dozen. It’s become a collection of sorts, places to be used only when I truly need to be alone and unseen. They are stocked and cleaned by people who have no idea who owns them. Only Titus knows about them and all communication is conducted discreetly, so this place isn’t officially linked to me. We should be safe, at least until we decide what to do.”
I’m loitering in the entry, not sure what to do next. She gives me no hints, but the instincts start yammering again.
“We need to talk about everything, but I’m being shoved around by these instincts. Do you feel them?”
Tillie’s grudging about it, but finally grumbles, “Yes.”
“What are they telling you?”
She releases another petulant growl and then delivers the messages with sass. “Let yourself need him. Let him be your alpha. Let him show you the way.” Shepffts. “It’s all a little degrading.”
I don’t conceal my shock at her word choice. “Degrading? Why?”
“I’m just supposed toacceptthat I’m this burden you never wanted and have no choice but to coddle for the rest of your life. I’m supposed to justuseyou as my unconsenting hero. It’s gross. Like I said, it’s not fated mates—it’s fated obligations. You don’t want me and I don’t want to want you, but it hurts to even imagine letting you go or having you walk away from me. I hate this.”
