Page 81 of Generation Omega: Claimed
We jump when Jameson or Ory pounds on the wall, likely communicating that we’ve almost reached our destination. We’re either about to reunite our pack or get caught, caged, and/or killed. At least, I just got kissed by a man who tastes like salted caramel. What could be a better ending?
Oh, yeah,notending.
CHAPTER 39
KAZIMIR
What the fuck am I doing? Strike that. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m pacing maniacally, and I can’t make myself stop. We arrived at this stupid mansion with its stupidly large doors. Do giants come for tea, because these ridiculous doors would accommodate them? But all the other furnishings are designed for humans, which makes me wonder why rich assholes need such pointlessly ginormous doors.
Notwithstanding the offending entry, the estate is massive, completely deserted, and possesses numerous egress routes. But it isn’t truly defensible, though nowhere is with drones in the air and all life forms eventually requiring sustenance. It’s so much easier—and more enjoyable—to be the hunter than the prey. All things being equal, this was an unwise change of occupation.
But all things aren’t equal, and as I observe the strategically banal box truck moving up the drive, my fluttery heart agrees that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. It really is a perilous undertaking, awakening one’s heart after a lifelong slumber. A sane man would never attempt such a thing, but sanity itself seems like a cage I outgrew without even realizing it. Logic. Control. Indifference. All are assets to an assassin, but now, with this beating heart summoning a vibrant palette of pleasantlyfrenetic emotions, I see thoseassetsfor what they actually were—the rusty bars of my old prison.
Damn, that’s a poetically mature way to view the absolute upheaval in my inner world. In truth, I feel like a teenager who asked the most amazing boy in school to go with him to the dance, and instead of getting an answer, that boy—that incredible soul who is better than I will be if I live and learn for a thousand years—said he had to think about it. I’m sixteen again, but this isn’t an adolescence I ever knew. There were no dances. No enjoyable activities between the mundanely brutal war to survive another day. My heart wasn’t safe to exist then, and it certainly isn’t now, not with so much to lose.
The concept of fear, the power of concern, the enormity of uncertainty—all are viscerally awful. If only I could give myself a dose of coma and take a break from all this ruminating that’s about as distasteful as gargling battery acid.Fuck… I’m worried abouteverything.
With Ethan, I’m about to confront the possibility that he’s not just declined my invitation to let me love him all his life, but that I’m going to have to set him free.Anguish… that’s a new one for me.
With Tillie, the countdown to our bond is nearing its end. How will I maintain any of my barriers under the onslaught of a connection to myfatedomega, if I’m believing the hype? She can’t know—anymore than Ethan—who I am, what I serve, and how I live.
With the pack, I’m facing an unimaginable dilemma—what I’m going to do if they’re cruel to Thatcher. I want to brush it off. I don’t want to care about Dr. Pretentious Shitbag, but with excruciating revulsion, I have to own that I wouldn’t be obsessing about the pack’s potential misbehavior if I didn’t care. The idea that they might use their power over this powerless wretch—even in jest—makes me physically sick.
Surely, Gideon won’t allow it, even if I did. But Gideon wasn’t onTeam Save Thatcher. What if he’s decided to end Thatcher, or he wants me to do it? No, he won’t. Moreover, I wouldn’t let him.
Fucking really???Thatcher Heapis the hill I’m finally willing to die on?Oof, that’s pure ugly right there.
I keep waiting for the omega legacy to mock me, but it’s suspiciously silent as the truck stops outside the monster-friendly doors that might be twice Mackenzie’s size—stupid fucking doors.
I’m still pacing across the beige-infested wasteland of excessive wealth in the hands of vapid people. Beige tile is beneath my boots as I stomp to the sunken living room’s beige carpet, and then to the far wall with its beige brick hearth. I spin and march back, but only make it to the enormous beige doors. I have to stop. I must stand and face them when they enter. I need to get a handle on myself and gather enough fury to keep me standing if Ethan has elected to…
Fuck this. Fuck waiting. Fuck just standing here like an assassin loitering before his former prey, asking him to get over that whole gunshot wound and history of violence, and incredibly unwisely embrace and cherish a newly ensouled, malevolent monster. Damn, that would make a horrible movie but an excellent MM shifter romance—so, at least, there’s that.
I lunge at the doors, throwing them open… or, more accurately, shoving them because they’re as pointlessly heavy as they are tall. Old me would have waited, glare at the ready, viper venom topped off in the tank. New me… well, he’s racing down the petite steps five at a time, rushing toward the truck that contains all the answers. Only one glance informs me that Ethan is in the back with Tillie and Gideon. I’m to that sliding door within a choppy breath, grabbing the latch and yanking it upward.
When I catch sight of Ethan, he’s all I can see. I’m inspecting him for any injuries, pushing into his inner realm for a status report on his physical wellness.
“I’m fine, Kaz.” He’s smiling at me and is so fucking beautiful I can’t breathe. “And I’m yours, if you still want me.”
I leap into the back of the truck like my feet spouted springs and seize him, kissing him with everything I am… all that I never thought I could ever be. He’s transforming this worthless monster into a man, and it may get us killed because monsters are clearly more useful, but I would never choose to go back, not for anything.
“I love you,” I stammer. “And, fuck, I need you, but are you sure?” I press the rest into his mind. Speak now or forever hold your fucking peace. Seriously.
I’m sure, Kaz. I know where I belong and also what was troubling me. I don’t have all the answers, and I have work to do to be right with myself and my life, but I’m yours and Tillie’s forever.
Fuck, I can breathe again, and my lungs feel larger somehow.
Ethan’s nerves hitch, sending shock waves at me as he starts to babble. “But, just FYI, I was… sort of, kind of, a little concerned that you might be betraying us, and I…”
I jerk away from him and glare at Gideon, who’s grinning like a proud father. “Youjudged me fornotmurdering Thatcher and…” I point my indignant gaze at Ethan, “… andyouassumed that I’m a traitor. What the fuck?” But I can’t even maintain my aura of justified resentment, because I begin chuckling like Santa got into a different kind of snow than his reindeer.
What’s happening to me? Oh, crap, I think this might be whatjoyfeels like, or maybe I’m experiencing a completely debilitating break with reality, certainly misery. Is there really a life for me that includes such undeserved grace?
But then I realize Ethan is truly agitated about my reaction, his guilt bubbling up like a stopped drain.
My hands are instantly on his shoulders. “Hey, I’m impressed with your doubts. I haven’t earned your trust yet, but I will, even if I have to kill every single person on this planet.” I manage to keep a straight face for three seconds longer than I thought I would. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know, no more wiping out large swaths of humanity, but the bad guys aren’tthathuman, so I’ve still got the chance to spill buckets of blood before all’s said and done.”
Ethan leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder, while my arms surround him. His sigh is soul deep, and our hearts align in a perfect rhythm.
