Page 80 of Generation Omega: Revealed
My omega is getting feisty, but I can’t tell the direction of her thoughts. “Explain aboutmyarmy.”
Thatcher grips the arms of the chair like a mighty chair destroyer. “This isn’t for you—not yet. Omegas are pure empathy, and this business isnot.”
I ease Tillie’s heart back to a steady rhythm and share my theory. “There’s a private army, isn’t there? Sage McGee has her own well-funded, omega-protecting army.”
Thatcher flinches and then nods, his glare at me rueful. The professor likes to underestimate the actor—I plan to make him pay for that.
“Why would that bother me?” Tilliepffts. “I want to live. I want all of us to live. I want the omega legacy to survive. If there’s an army against us, then why not have an army for us? It’s great.”
I suddenly understand why he’s conflicted. It’s the same reason the instincts didn’t want Tillie to hold a gun. Theoretical armies are wildly different from very real casualties. That’s one part. The other is that she hasn’t fully revealed and isn’t yet a true omega with inescapably powerful empathy. He’s not worried about this moment, but what this knowledge will mean after our pack is together and Tillie has fully revealed and is the omega in charge.
When neither of us say anything, Tillie demands, “What?! Why are you two so freaking edgy?”
The professor yields to me, leaving me to navigate the shark-infested water park he and Sage built. “Tillie, it’s our job to shield you, so there will be times when we do that, whether you like it or not. Both of us are feeling an inner warning about sharing too much about things that aren’t relevant today.”
“But…”
“No.”Oops, I laid down the law with a little too much force.
Tillie’s wide eyes display her hurt as much as her heart does, and I’m two seconds from tearing out my own heart to make things right.
Boundaries now will save her later.
Compassion means making hard choices.
Trust must be forged like steel.
Control must be embraced, not rejected.
Yes, thanks bunches, omega legacy. I run my fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m getting cranky here in the research zone, but I do need you to trust us about this and let us be your alphas. We all have roles to play here, and we need to give each other some grace as we work things out.”
Tillie’s tension remains and she doesn’t acknowledge my words, turning her full attention on Thatcher.
He’s distracted, reclaimed by his laptop screen and punching keys like a ragey piano player. “Even with the inherent risk of their arrival, I wish we knew more about your other alphas.”
Tillie recoils from his words, but he misses it and all the swirling darkness that’s building inside her.
Give her impenetrable walls to crash against.
She needs to know her boundaries, where she will always be protected… even from herself.
Absently, Thatcher mutters, “If we were all together, that would be the truest testament to the progress we’ve made. It would prove that all we’ve done has brought us here together with an actual chance of success.”
Thatcher finally looks at her, but he doesn’t see anything relevant about this moment, not even the inner fractures in his omega. He’s fully existing in his lofty strategies and the ego that formed them, seeking an epic win like this is all a game. “I don’t mean to push, but if you know something about your third alpha, I could contact Sage and we could try to reach out. We could facilitate a safe introduction.”
The change in Tillie might as well be a thunderclap, but she’s still a statue on my lap staring at the man who isn’t listening to her heart.
The truth must be faced.
It will be understood.
But first, it must be felt.
Even without the desperate edge to the legacy’s guidance, there is no way I would miss that something important is about to happen. My instinct is to keep her steady, to tamp down whatever’s escalating within her. But smothering this bomb to contain the blast radius isn’t what’s needed.Trust must be forged like steel.Steel is forged by violence, and we’re about to get a dose of omega destruction, if I’m right.
It’s all hitting her—that’s what this is. When it was just Tillie and me here in the penthouse, she was caught in a bubble of wonder,forced proximitywith her favorite actor. Thatcher’s arrival shifted that balance, and observing everything happening in the real world is quickly shredding any amount of denial Tillie managed to preserve.
Tillie’s voice is ice. “You and Sage, huh? Just helping out, orchestrating my life—that’s just what you do, isn’t it? One question,Thatcher. Who gave you the right to put all of us—all the omegees—at risk of revealing without our consent?”
