Page 23 of Generation Omega: Claimed
When I cringe, he adds, “Sorry, but it would help me to think that, one day, you’ll be able to remember everything that happens during a heat—that you’ll know how much pleasure you claimed and how much connection. Anything is possible, even evolving heats to match an evolving pack.”
Oh, right. “That’s a hopeful thought—thanks.”
Ethan’s empathetic gaze is so soothing. “There’s another thing too, and maybe I shouldn’t say it, but, if our roles were reversed, I’d want to know before I said or did something I was going to regret.” He studies my face, reaching for some sign that I want to hear a difficult truth.
“Tell me, Ethan. I trust you to know what I need to hear.”
He nods but still takes a moment, possibly preparing himself for an unpleasant response. “I know you’re feeling like you got taken for a ride and you can’t remember it, but I promise you that your alphas are dealing with the same re-entry—or missingprobingtime. That experience didn’t just happen to you. It happened to your pack.”
Ethan eases the loofah over my belly. “I don’t know what your alphas are going to remember. I know Kaz will remember because his control is off the charts, but I think it would be a damaging mistake to avoid your alphas, rather than sharing your tumble from the mothership. Everything that happened to you happened to them too, as it should be. You were all caught up in something preordained, mystical, and without true consent. If you let it, this experience could bring your pack closer, but if you choose to point your hurt and anger at them, I think you’ll destroy what we just tried to build.”
“Oh, Ethan…” Like an earthquake, the floor beneath me seems to shift and drop. I grab Ethan’s shoulders, gripping hold to stay on my feet.
“What is it?” he presses.
“The omegaverse… something’s happening,” I breathe and close my eyes as the legacy yanks me toward a reckoning with all I shouldn’t know.
CHAPTER 13
TILLIE
I don’t fight as the omegaverse pushes images into my mind. Everything is blurry at first, but then the pictures—no, the streaming videos—sharpen. It’s like I’m watching a reality TV show being filmed on this yacht in the middle of the ocean. But, unlike a scandalous show, this footage isn’t the juicy stuff from the heat, definitely not for the purpose of providing my lost memories. This is in real time, glimpses of my alphas as they come to terms with everything that happened during the heat.
The first video reveals Gideon. He’s just out of the shower, staring at himself in the mirror while clutching his chest, attempting to slow his wildly beating heart. I don’t understand at first, but then I realize I can’t feel him in my heart. Did our connection fail or am I blocking him? Terror lives inside him and inside me. He’s afraid he didn’t protect me like he should have and, worse, that he hurt me when he was under the control of his alpha.
Keeping one hand on Ethan’s steady shoulder, I raise the other to rest over our bondmark, gently rubbing my fingers along it. Gideon’s expression instantly changes, signaling his profound relief, his restored hope, and his infinite love. Hecovers the bondmark I gave him, sending me his strength, his longing to see me, and his excitement about our future.
My inner camera shifts, now displaying a ginormous, red-haired man who gives off mythological-god vibes. But, as incredible as his presence is, his obvious confusion is what rattles me. Is this the omega’s alpha or mine, the man who was pushed aside to make room for another alpha to live inside him? Fiction certainly never prepared me for this version of the omegaverse. It’s strange to see him seated on a couch in the main level, wrapped in a towel. I don’t need audio or access to his thoughts to know why he’s there. This man genuinely has no idea where he belongs on this ship or in this pack.
The heat ended and this man, whose name I don’t even know, suddenly returned to his body, with little memory of anything that came before. Does he even know how he got here or what’s happening? My heart pulses, showing me where he belongs, and it’s with me—he’s certainly got a dozen bondmarks to prove it. Dang, my omega needs a freaking muzzle. Those bites will need tending, and as awkward as that will be for this stranger and me, it will prove better than anything that he’s welcome here.
Before I think too much about climbing onto my giant alpha’s lap, the omega legacy drags me away from him. I’m suddenly with Jameson Farraway—I’d completely forgotten about my bad-boy, sex-tape alpha. He’s resting on the bed he claimed in a room with two singles, staring at the ceiling, his amber eyes sparkling and a smug smile on his gorgeous face. I don’t know what’s in his thoughts, but if I had to guess, he’s pretty content to have participated in the best orgy he ever imagined and might just be fantasizing about the next one.
I should be miffed about that, but arousal toys with me at the promise in his lusty gaze. I doubt any of my other alphas spent their adult lives attempting tomedalin the sport of fucking,but Jameson did. It’s the one thing we all know about him—the man fucks like it’s art. His attention on his partner is like he’s shackled to her and will never get free unless he creates the perfect climax, one that haunts her for the rest of her life because she’ll never be satisfied like that again. She’ll always know how amazing it was, but this maestro won’t ever be back because he never plays the same instrument twice.
Yeah, my desire and jealousy are real. My omega got to screw him. When’s my turn? I’m annoyed when my view shifts as Jameson’s hand begins wandering lower. Does he have a knot yet? Because that’s on my to-do list, if he doesn’t. I’ll have him like no other woman ever has or ever will. Thisbad boyis now in my stable, and I’ll never let him be ridden by anyone else for the rest of his life.Oops… does that sound like me or my omega? Oh, it’s fine. She’s always around to blame, but she’ll only get him during heats. I’ll get him whenever I want.
The next stop on my alpha tour is the one I dread the most. Thatcher’s image crystalizes the second before he punches a wall. He’s on the other end of the ship, alone in a room with a bunk bed. Thatcher is enraged, torn up even. I try to abandon him, not wanting to engage with this drama right now. But the legacy won’t let me look away, as Thatcher sits on the bed, grabbing his hair like it’s a weapon of self-harm and then losing control of his tears. He’s not a small guy, but he seems that way.
I struggle to remember how cautiously open my heart was when I tried to make peace with him before the heat. I don’t know what he’s reacting to—whether it’s about what he did or didn’t do, or even something that was done to him—but I know it feels menacing. What exists inside him or between us is built of darkness, and I don’t have what it takes to face that now. I’ll keep staring at him, if that’s what the legacy demands, but that’s all I’ll do, because what I sense with a certainty that feels like truth is that I’m not safe with him.
I’m almost looking forward to checking in with Kazimir, just to escape Thatcher, but the sight that enters my awareness is so shocking, I gasp.
“Ethan, Kazimir’s not okay. You need to go to him.” I send a warning pulse to Gideon, who acknowledges me and moves to help. “Gideon’s on the way. Let me know if I can help.”
Ethan stands and stares at me, clearly grasping for his connection to Kazimir and coming up empty. “Are you okay alone?”
I jab him with my finger. “Ethan Harris, I’m me—I’m fine. Go to him. Right now.”
Ethan lunges forward, kissing my head, before racing out of the room without stopping for a towel. My view remains on Kazimir, where he collapsed on the floor of another bathroom, his body splayed in a position he never would have chosen. He didn’t just sit on the floor—he lost consciousness and fell.
I can’t find any wounds, but I’m beyond thinking the omegaverse can’t damage us in ways no one will ever see.
Should I go to him? That’s what I ask the legacy.
You can’t help him—not yet. But there is someone you can help.
Please, not Thatcher.
