Page 89 of Generation Omega: Claimed
“Oh, good grief, omegas aresosappy.” But Kazimir only holds me tighter, maybe thinking I didn’t notice how his words broke as he spoke them.
If music is the silence between the notes then maybe, for a tortured assassin, love lives in the never-healed fractures of spirit, mind, heart, and body that define his life. It’s tragic to think it, but there’s no greater proof of hope for us and our pack than this killer’s willingness to learn how to love and be loved. So far, I think he’s doing alright.
“If we stay in here too long, they’re going to think you really are sweet on me.” I expect him to flinch away from me, but he doesn’t. He moves slightly, and I feel his touch on my head, as he breathes deeply my scent and then kisses my hair.
“Ethan always does that,” Kazimir says in a curious tone. I think he’s done, but then he adds, “Now, I understand why.”
CHAPTER 42
TILLIE
Kazimir comically stomps out of the laundry room, muttering in Russian. Ethan’s tension disappears when he catches me smiling, but Kazimir grabs him by the neck with a fierce grip, escorting him wherever the heck he wants. I’ll start panting like a Saint Bernard if I think about the two of them kissing again, and I’ll be touching myself if I imagine them groping each other. Of course, theydeserveprivacy, but getting railed on the bow of a yacht might have broken my ability to care about my packmates’ privacy rights. I’m just giving myself bonus points for not stalking them…yet.
Hearing voices, I meander toward the boring, beige living room, discovering a meeting already in progress. Sage, Gideon, and Jameson are deep in conversation. I watch them, catching little details about their topic—the most strategic way to present my omega status to the world. Sage provides information about the rallies that are still occurring, the omegaverse’s huge social media presence, and all the demands for accountability about what happened at Omega-Palooza. Basically, they’re discussing everything I should care about but currently don’t.
Instead of interrupting and requesting a full recap, I slowly back away from responsibility and escape to the kitchen. Oncethere, it doesn’t take long before I’ve validated my decision by acknowledging that omegas have alphas formanyreasons. Today, their duties involve figuring out how to launch my omega campaign. I’ll get a vote. I don’t need to sit in there and weigh in on everything. Thatcher should probably be included in that planning session, but I don’t blame them for avoiding him. He’s a lot to face right now.
I search in the fridge and claim a bottle of water. Then I lean against the beige island, staring at the beige sink, and drink the entire thing. As I stand there, I attempt to locate my center, a calm place inside me that smoothly rolls with whatever happens, but that turns out to be a total fantasy.
Instead, my thoughts morph into fireflies, flashing into existence for me to chase before vanishing whenever I get close. I’m finally alone with my thoughts, and they’re playing a cagey game of hide-and-seek. Even after a few minutes of hunting imaginary flying bug thoughts, all I have is a general sense ofmeh, without a specific origin.
It’s possible I’m experiencing an understandable letdown after emotionally summitingMount Kazimirand miraculously forging a pretty impressive bond with my most unknown alpha. It’s also conceivable that confronting my rogue alpha—and loss of an alpha—drained my soul and, with it, the fuel required to maintain a happy, healthy, functioning idea factory. Maybe the correct solution to this dilemma is staring at the tragic sea of beige infesting this place. At least, no one will ever know just how uninspiring I am or that I’m basically the human equivalent of bland, wonder-deficient beige decor right now. Ugh.
One thought manages to rattle free of its chains, a totally inconvenient one. It’s pushback more than a new idea and involves my designation of Kazimir as myleast knownalpha. Most known to least known—do I even know enough to rankthem like that? I mean, what do I actually know about any of them?
Sure, I got the highlights reel when my alphas bonded me, and I know how my other alphas were called to my pack. But all of that lacks true depth of understanding. Gideon is good and true, and Mackenzie, Ory, Jameson, and Kazimir are committed to me and our pack’s future. Thatcher is permanently leashed to the pack and can’t work against us, so there’s that.
But what do Ireallyknow about them? And, just as importantly, what do they know about me? The entire time they were listening to my thoughts, I wasn’t myself—I was presenting a version of me that wasn’t real. How much of what they’re doing isn’t true to who they were before we met?
Who puts their dirty clothes in a hamper rather than on the floor? What are their hobbies? Favorite foods and drinks? What is Gideon’s favorite movie he starred in? What did Ory think about when he lived in the background of Mackenzie’s mind? Did Jameson actually hook up with a world leader at one of his father’s summits? Does Kazimir collect artifacts from the people he’s caught or killed like a serial killer? I feel like I should know these things.
What about their families? Gideon’s mother and sister? Thatcher’s family? What is Jameson’s relationship with his father, who was barely present in his memories? I know Mackenzie’s sister is the person he cares most about, but I don’t know much about her. She was in San Francisco for Omega-Palooza, but where is she now? And how was she okay with what happened to him? Loving the omegaverse is one thing; letting it steal your brother is another.
All the blood drains from my face, and I rush into the living room. “Were we declared missing?! Ethan’s work… my school?” I point at Jameson. “Areyoumissing? Has your father begun aglobal manhunt for you? We all just disappeared from our lives, and I’m so stupid. I…”
Gideon’s on his feet, moving toward me. “Hey, no—don’t do that. Just breathe.”
“I need an answer, likenow.”
He turns to Sage, nodding for her to respond.
“Hello, Tillie. It’s good to see you.” Dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, Sage looks entirely different from when she presented Thatcher in the auditorium, but she’s no less commanding. “I took care of alerting your school and Ethan’s work and gym. Kazimir already contacted Ethan’s mother and has protection in place for her. Thatcher was easy to handle.” Sage has clearly done her research, because she knew my parents didn’t need any updates about my life.
“Gideon’s sister put out a press statement that he is taking some time off to deal with a personal matter.” Sage’s emerald eyes wickedly glitter. “Everyone has different theories about that. Some in the omegaverse community think he’s an alpha, while others are going with rehab, secret marriage, or plastic surgery.”
“What?!” Gideon’s horrified shock allows me to laugh and breathe. “Plastic surgery onwhat?” Of course, that was the most offensive item on the list, not rehab or a secret marriage.
“Probably those fake abs and perfect ass,” Jameson snaps. “You had to be created on an operating table.”
When I meet Jameson’s gaze, that hardness is still there, and it makes me ache. I’m not the same without his lasso—that’s undeniable. But the ripples caused by his bitterness run deeper than that, creating cracks in my foundation with everyone else. If a bonded alpha can withdraw like this, how can anything with any of my alphas feel truly solid?
Into the awkward silence, Jameson states to anyone but me, “I often evaded my protective detail, hiding out with shadyfriends in remote locations. So, my sudden absence wasn’t a surprise, especially with a stolen boat involved—not my first act of piracy. With Kazimir’s help, I sent word through a channel only known to my father that I needed a break and that I’m fine. To keep him quiet, I mentioned that I might have done something that would cause him some serious controversy, and that I’m trying to deal with it before it explodes his life. My father is nothing if not dedicated to his own self-interest.”
I intently study the beige carpet, hopefully concealing my delicate omega feelings. “What about Mackenzie?”
From behind me, I hear Mackenzie—not Ory—and I turn toward him, knowing I’m always safe to look at him. He would never lock me out of his heart, no matter what I ever do.
“The only people who needed to know about my path knew before I did. I don’t know where they are now, but my pals will take care of Maisie until it’s time for you to know her role in this. I’m hoping you’ll explain it to me, because Ory won’t, not more than he already has.”
