Page 27 of Generation Omega: Claimed
“Tell me.”
Like he’s fully immersing himself in his new role, Gideon becomes my pack leader, not just my devoted alpha. “Kazimir won’t survive another heat if he tries to do what he did, remaining in control, not being with his omega. We needed him, and he’s the reason the heat was a success, but…”
“He’s my alpha, and he needs to be my alpha.” What I can’t say out loud, I think so hard my words probably blare in Gideon’s mind. I’m not ready yet, but I understand. I need time to get to know him, just like the others, and I need to make sure Ethan is okay.
“Of course.” Gideon leans and kisses my head. “Now, are you up for a little experiment?” He’s lighter now, having dealt with the most urgent pack business.
“Sure. What’s the plan?”
“Well, we triumphed in our first heat challenge. So, it’s time to face our next epic pack-building trial. Are you ready for this?”
I deliver my best sassy wink. “Do I get to keep my clothes on for this one, or should I just tear them off?”
Gideon rolls his eyes, but our chemistry is about to boil over. “Clothes on, baby girl, but the day is just beginning.”
“Okay then—what’s our next big challenge?”
“First pack breakfast with zero fatalities.”
I blurt a laugh. “Yay for food, but all of us together? Really?” My nerves skitter, searching for the exits. “I mean, I know we need to, but… it’s a lot… all the alphas in one place, and me not remembering…”
One hint of my concern, and Gideon’s calming vibes reach me. It takes a few seconds for me to feel Mackenzie’s warmth behind me. He’s not touching me, but I can sense just howclose he is. Without a word, he’s reminding me that he has no memories of anything that happened during the heat, that I’m not alone in this awkward situation. Testing out a theory, certain Gideon will assist if necessary, I play an unannounced trust exercise and lean backward. I barely move an inch before Mackenzie’s arm circles my waist, and I’m protected against the wall of his physical presence.
To Gideon, I send a message. I need more time with Mackenzie. He’ll hide his pain from me, and I never want him to hurt.
Of course, but first, pack breakfast.
I rest my hand on Mackenzie’s arm. “Then let’s get this breakfast party started.”
Gideon explains his surprising idea for summoning the pack, and then we test it out. I basically focus intently on needing my alphas to come to me and immediately feel their recognition of my call.
“It worked,” I practically squeak, anxious butterflies swarming inside me. Six men. Five alphas, at least five alpha bodies, with the first alpha in the mix somewhere. My pack. And me. My heart lurches around as I struggle to imagine all of us together in one place. This tiny freak-out isn’t about the heat. It’s what this breakfast means, this first meal together as a pack. Gideon was right. This is an epic event.
I don’t know these men yet, but I want to know them. Ineedto know them. But how can that possibly happen with so many of them?
Gideon gently holds my chin, guiding my face up so that I’m looking at him. “You’re safe, and this is necessary. We have to keep moving forward. We don’t have time to waste.”
I nod jerkily in his hand. “I know, and I’m starving, so…”
“Your alphas will be making breakfast together, so you just take a seat on the other side of the table and settle in for theshow.” Gideon’s humor eases me as much as his awareness that I’d really rather have a table between certain alphas and me.
I’m already in my seat, with my back toward the window, as Jameson Farraway strolls in, pausing to deliver a smug wink before Gideon barks at him to gather supplies. Mackenzie is barely in the kitchen before being banished, because it’s not large enough for anyone else if he’s in there. With an entirely good-natured shrug, he moves to the other side of the counter and is put to work setting the table. I’m still fixating on his towel as he moves, and when his gaze meets mine, I blush, ensuring I’m totally caught thinking exactly what I’m thinking.
Thatcher enters like a storm cloud, and Gideon directs him to the fridge before he can even look at me. It’s a few minutes before Ethan arrives, claiming the seat beside me and immediately holding my hand. I flinch at the sight of Kazimir’s face as he studies the alpha cooking team, not because of his clear resistance to joining them—assassins shouldn’t be on the kitchen crew—but because of how gaunt he is. Gideon’s warning echoes in my head. It’s not that I doubted my first alpha, but actually witnessing the dramatic change in Kazimir drives the truth home more than anything else could.
Keeping my voice low, I ask, “Is he okay?”
Ethan winces, clearly not wanting to discuss Kazimir’s condition while his alpha listens, though there’s really no way to avoid that anymore. The potent reminder that Ethan and I will never have another private conversation sours my mood. Ethan raises my hand and kisses my knuckles, before playfully bumping my shoulder with his. He’s trying to bring me back again, but this time, I’m digging in, and as my stomach gurgles angrily, I feel entitled to my craptastic attitude.
Undeterred, Ethan leans in and whispers, “Let’s rate them. What categories should we use? Who would be most appealingwearing nothing but a chef hat? Best pancake shapes? Or, I know, who looks the best in Kaz’s clothes?”
Dang it. Ethan’s legendaryfoul-mood-be-gonepowers are remarkable. We’re suddenly creating categories for evaluating my alphas, which gives me the chance to study them in new ways. Together, they’re a bit much, but assessing them individually, even for ridiculous reasons, decreases the tightness in my chest, making breathing and existing much easier.
The simplest category to evaluate them by—at least until breakfast arrives—is how they look in Kazimir’s all-blackassassin wear. The killer’s wardrobe is attractively baggy on Jameson’s leaner body and a bit too long on Thatcher’s shorter but equally broad frame. Kazimir’s pants are perfect on Ethan, whose chest is bare—maybe his alpha enjoys the sight of Ethan’s muscles as much as I do—and Kazimir and Gideon are so similar in build that the clothes could be a Gideon Blake costume. Mackenzie’s towel makes all the sense in the world. That man would burst the seams on anything Kazimir owns.
With my head resting against Ethan’s shoulder, while his arm is wrapped around me, I muse, “So, do you think all alphas have to be big, strong, and attractive, or that’s just what I need with how dangerous things are?”
Thatcher’s gaze meets mine, and I almost ask for his educated opinion, but the dude just can’t help himself. He lobs a vicious glare at Ethan that sparks a blaze inside me, but Kazimir’s response is much more effective than mine. The killer directs a scathing snarl at our smug professor that has Thatcher trembling with rage, while also submissively lowering his eyes and baring his own neck to the more dominant alpha.
