Page 63 of Generation Omega: Claimed
My internal whine hits an unpleasant pitch, nothing sensually appealing even for my alphas. I’m just so warm, and Ethan’s so perfect. Five more minutes?
I’m sorry for not warning you, but I wanted you to have as many carefree moments as possible before the real world reclaims us.
Oh. It’stime—you mean we’re leaving the ship?
Breakfast is almost ready, and then we’ll dock and…
Please, don’t say it. My fluttering nerves deliver my fear directly to my alphas. They respond with a wave of supportive vibes, each as unique as they are. Not one of my bonds is the same, and as time passes and our connections truly develop, the ties between us are only growing more distinct. Gideon is a fortress surrounding me. Mackenzie is a garden that comforts me. Jameson is a lasso that always reminds me that I’m not alone, and also that I’m his to bind as he sees fit—still hotter than sin, mybad boyalpha.
I’m curious what Kazimir will be, and even what Thatcher might be. The ache of their absence continues, but it’s now shared with my alphas, something for the pack to carry, not just me.
I need something. I say that to Gideon, but I feel the attentions of my other alphas.
What?
Brace yourselves, fellas. I need a little time alone before we go. I’ll just take my breakfast and get ready by myself.
Alpha displeasure should be rated like hurricane winds, but I stand my ground, mostly by grasping hold of an absolutely truthful detail about my life. I haven’t had more than a fewminutes alone since Ethan surprised me at my dorm room with tickets to Omega-Palooza.
I shudder, and my alphas feel it. More than that, they’re working a bit too hard to conceal their discomfort at the reminder that, less than two weeks ago, I was just an art student living in a dorm. To cover Gideon’s reaction, Jameson sends some seriously naughty role-play ideas involving me in a sexy school uniform and him playing my naked professor, ready to punish me if I don’t sculpt him perfectly.
Anytime, anywhere, handsome—except here and now. Please, alphas, I need this.
Okay, baby girl, but just know, this is going to hurt.
Mackenzie’s scrumptious voice reaches me, testing my resolve as he asks for my breakfast order. I answer and then kiss Ethan’s chest.
Ethan moans pitifully. “Ugh, do wereallyhave to get up?”
“We do. I guess we’re almost there. My alphas are grudgingly allowing me to get ready by myself—shocking, isn’t it?”
Ethan laughs. “That is shocking.” He pulls back to look at my face. “Are you okay?”
That’s a good question. “I don’t know, but I need thevacationto end, if that makes sense.”
He considers that thoughtfully, like always. “It definitely makes sense. Everything has been so powerful—the heat, new bondmarks, more alphas in your head, plus all the unanswered questions about Kaz and Thatcher. Of course, you’re ready to move into the next stage, where we start discovering what our pack’s normal looks like, regardless of what comes at us.”
“Exactly. I’m so grateful we had this time to connect, but the majority of my initial bonds are behind us. We won’t have to start from the beginning again, and I’m ready to see where we go from here.” That thought ignites what I’ve been callingcurio-cern, where curiosity and concern are too mangled together to untangle.
My expressive face displays all that’s muddled in me, and Ethan grins as he asks, “What is that about?”
“Did Kazimir ever call you?”
At first, he’s solemn, but then hope sparkles in his eyes, something that’s been entirely lacking since his alpha left. “No, he didn’t, but…”
I rest my hands on his chest. “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. Since the heat ended, every time I push for more information about anything, the words barely reach my mouth before the legacy commands me to trust my pack. Before Thatcher left, I was already beginning to understand the roles we’re all meant to play. Jameson helped with that dramatic show on the bow, and Mackenzie did too because he knows it’s not his time to shine. He’s so patient about that.”
Ethan’s frown is extremely judgy. “You’rethe omega—you’realwaysmeant to shine.”
Omegaverse fiction certainly told me that, but… “Am I? I mean, I know I have a job to do—it’s crazy unspecific, but it is mine. But we’re a pack because the legacy knows I can’t do this alone, so sometimes, I have to get out of the way and let my alphas do their jobs. That said…”
“What?”
Knowing my alphas are listening makes this more amusing. “They aren’t sharing anything stressful with their delicatefloweryomega.”
Ethan snorts, and I know he’s remembering all my exceedingly violent childhood antics with the same delight I am—I’m not evendelicate floweradjacent.
“Anyway, I’m fine with trusting them to get me where I need to be until it’s time for me to start doing omega stuff thatdoesn’t involve my mythicalvajayjay. But I need your help with something…” I’m totally serious about this, and you all better not give him any grief. “… because I trust you more than anyone to make sure they don’t keep things from me that I need to know. So, I’m asking—maybe begging—you to be thepestiest pest who ever pestedand climb into all their business, ask all the questions, demand all the answers, so that I can feel safe in thistrust-fallthat’s apparently my existence now.”
