Page 52 of Generation Omega: Revealed
“Exactly. I’ll do it—you don’t need to worry about that, but I’m not…civilizedand he deserves…”
All quiet on the alpha front, but I’m now able to interpret the meaning behind this silence. My instincts clearly help, but it’s more than that. Experience is guiding my understanding. He’s worried about protecting Ethan like I’m worried about protecting Tillie, an elemental connection driven by the legacy. But Ethan isn’t the killer’s omega—Tillie is.
I cringe as a murky image forms that reveals what he’s concealing. He called because he’s struggling to leave Ethan, like I would be torn to shreds if I had to leave Tillie. Omega lore flashes through my mind, all my research, the way I almost bit Tillie in the shower—how the thought of digging my teeth into her and bonding her is fierce enough that I’m gripping the chair hard enough to break the damn thing.
Channeling my most tender role that made the world weep and won me all the awards, I speak my suspicion. “To save him, you made him yours.”
“Yes,” he answers immediately, like he needed me to know but couldn’t volunteer something so precious to a stranger.
I force a calm that I don’t feel. “You will kill anyone who tries to hurt him.”
“Yes.”
“You would give your life for his.”
“Yes.”
My jaw tightens painfully. “His welfare is everything to you.”
“Yes.”
Now, question time, and I keep my voice neutral. “Does he know?”
“No.” After a long pause, he adds, “He was too far gone, too close to death, and I didn’t know if it would work. He’s still unconscious. I sedated him, but every second I wait to leave increases the risk that I won’t be able to come back without them trailing me. It might take hours for me to lose them and be certain I’m not bringing danger to him. While I’m gone, he’ll be trapped here, alone.”
I know the answer, but I have to ask. “Bringing him here would increase the risk for all of us, right?”
“Definitely—that’s not an option, unless we have no others.”
“I agree. So, you want me to be a backup in case something happens to you?”
“Yes, and I want him to be able to call her when he wakes. She’s asvitalto him as he is to her. But he won’t know about our bond, and I’d rather she not know until I’ve talked to him.” There’s an edge of panic to him that feels too familiar.
“I won’t tell her. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to push them into facing something none of us fully understand.” I sit up straight. “Wait, is this done often? Fiction loves a bonded beta, but in real life… you know the history, does this happen?”
“Never,” he growls.
I’m not touching that one either, but it’s good to know. “I’ll go along with your plans and take care of Ethan if anything happens to you. But I want something from you in return.”
“What?”
“Your name.”
CHAPTER26
THATCHER
I pace for hours until Sage snaps and orders me to sit down. Even then, it doesn’t last. I feel like I’m being electrocuted from the inside, and it only gets worse every minute I’m away from her. Her heart… I feel it. I’d even swear I can feel it pounding more fiercely, as though she’s running from something. But I don’t think she’s in actual danger right now.
Sage commanded me to feel and now I’m stuck, feeling everything, searching for clues, wondering who I am now.Unfinished—that’s what I am and it’s all I will ever be if I don’t find her. I’m part of something, no longer separate and able to be self-contained. I’ve always been alone and I’ve been fine with it, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been happy.
Nothing comes to mind when I search my memories, no distinct, lasting sense of peace or contentment. There was always more to learn, to do. This obsession has been my life and, if I eliminate anything involving the omegaverse, I can’t summon anything to justify my existence.
I can’t tell whether that makes me a misguided fool or, more kindly, that I always knew I belonged somewhere and I just kept striving until I reached it. Have I? Am I finally at the place where I can belong to something other than the theoretical?
The knowledge of my omega’s heartbeat proves that things have changed. Jitters rack through me, along with a pull so fierce I might be torn apart if I don’t move. It’s been like this for hours, but it doesn’t make sense. The pull is like the jerk of a chain, but it doesn’t seem to go anywhere. It’s not sustained guidance that will lead me to her.
I stop pacing as the truth hits me like the clang of cymbals at the orchestra. I walk toward the window and slide the curtain, staring in the direction of the pull. It’s not the neighboring property that calls to me, the tiny, historic building with Queen Anne architecture and an abundance of ivy. No, it’s the high-rise just beyond that inspires a release of adrenalin, accompanied by a visceral and barely restrained fury.
