Page 57 of Generation Omega: Claimed (Originverse #3)

GIDEON

I can’t hear anything from Tillie’s mind when she’s away in her garden with Mackenzie.

The quiet is stark and awful, an unfortunate preview of what’s to come.

My error smacked me as soon as I uttered it, my grand declaration that I had the right to violate Tillie’s wishes, but Jameson didn’t.

It was crap. I was crap. And the rotten thing about self-awareness—now, I have to make this right with both of them.

You must maintain awareness of your omega at all times.

I’ve been blathering at the damn omegaverse for hours and getting complete radio silence, but now it’s here to declare what I should do with my omega.

I beg to differ with the lofty wisdom from the great beyond. I think our pack’s foundation and Tillie’s fortress walls are best served by unmistakable displays of love, respect, and trust. Love Tillie. Respect Tillie. Trust Tillie. The recipe is clear. I need to listen to her needs, not yours.

That is a mistake. Omegas need guidance and boundaries, severe forms of protection when necessary.

I almost blurt a random laugh like an unhinged dude, but I manage to keep it on the inside. Here, let’s try a little thought exercise, oh wise and mighty legacy. Remind me again how many omegas have survived in the past five hundred years. Oh, right… none .

And, just FYI, you’re sounding a lot like Thatcher. Remember him? The guy whose fatal flaw was never bothering to get to know Tillie? If you’re truly advising me to ignore what’s suffocating my omega, then you share the same flaw as your hand-picked, traitorous professor.

After all, there are like eight billion people on the planet, with almost eight million in the San Francisco Bay Area.

There were about a thousand at Omega-Palooza.

And you picked him . If you’re ready to seek redemption for that unwise choice, why don’t you start with providing some intel on Kazimir—specifically, whether he’s with us or against us?

The legacy vanishes instantly and unhelpfully. What a shocker.

Ethan is so stiff that even his breathing is labored, and he keeps rubbing that bondmark like it’s a stain he can’t get out.

Jameson is sprawled over the couch, working his way through what must be a dozen tiny bottles of liquor, while scowling at his obvious sobriety.

And I’m busy scouring every memory of every second with Kazimir for clues about his loyalties.

In sifting through the evidence, I’m basically assembling a stack of proof detailing all the ways he’s saved us.

Anyone can lie. Anyone can deceive. But if Kazimir has betrayed us— is betraying us—then he’s a better actor than I’ve ever been.

I’ll ship him all my awards, straight to the hell I deliver him to if he ever tries to hurt my pack.

Finally, I pull my head out of my ass and remember my job, setting my hand on Ethan’s shoulder. I know, without being told, that he’s staying with Tillie and his alpha, his epic decision made. For him, for Tillie, and for the pack, I hope with everything I am that Kazimir is still with us.

Standing there, almost as rigid as Ethan, my frustration expands as I can’t make sense of the omega legacy.

Why won’t it just tell us what’s happening with Kazimir?

Why does it sprinkle suggestions or demands about one thing and totally clam up about another?

It must know the truth of who Kazimir is—who we all are.

But it didn’t know about the flighty professor until that jackass bolted, so who fucking knows anything?

Before I have the chance to follow that pessimistic thought into its cramped rabbit hole, Tillie opens her eyes and meets my gaze.

“We’re going to continue with our plans, meeting up with Kazimir…

trusting Kazimir.” Ethan is about to ask something, when Tillie raises her trembling hand to stop him.

“I can’t explain right now. I’m sorry.” Then she directs her pleading eyes at me.

“Please, alpha, your omega needs a nap and her first alpha’s protection. ”

I release Ethan’s shoulder and lift Tillie off Mackenzie’s lap, carrying her toward the back of the plane. I set her sassy boots on the seat, so that we’re at eye level.

Then I capture her face between my hands. “I’ll send you right into dreamland, but I need to know something first.”

She nods as a shiver works its way through her.

“When do you want me to wake you? We’ll be landing in about forty-five minutes, then driving a few hours to where we’re reuniting with Kazimir and Thatcher.

We’ll be there a couple hours while we put together our pack reveal video.

Kazimir told me someone will be helping with that, a person who can be trusted.

After that’s finished, we’ll be moving to another location where we’ll spend the night. ”

Tillie’s relief at receiving that information is the dose of shame I needed to say the rest. “I’m evicting myself from your head. I genuinely believed I was doing the right thing, but I’m not, and I see that now.”

Tears well in her lovely eyes. “You mean it? You can do that? You will?”

It’s like ripping a limb off, but I do it, grimacing hideously the whole time. “I’m out. Your mind is your own. Please, baby girl, I need you to tell me when you need help. I’m begging you.”

Tillie leans into me, her breath hitching. I hold her close as she whispers her thanks.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, not when I failed to understand and honor what you needed for this long.”

“You’re perfect, Gideon, and I love you.”

Our hearts zing back and forth, love expanding in a way it never has. Solid. True. A new level of our connection so powerful it takes my breath away.

“Wake me right before we reach the meetup. I want to be as rested as possible for our pack reunion. Besides, if I’m wrong, and we’re about to be captured, napping now seems like a great idea.”

“You got it. Are you ready?”

Tillie pulls back and gives my shirt a spiteful glare. I get her subtle message and tug my shirt over my head. She reaches and opens the belt of her dress, her gorgeous breasts suddenly all I can see.

“Now, I’m ready.”

I wait until we’re chest to chest, her legs around my waist, before sending one surge of alpha power.

She’s instantly out, her forehead against my neck and her face resting below, like she’s a kitten curled up against her favorite human.

I can suddenly exhale, not having realized how much I needed this contact with her.

We’ve come so far in just over a week, but it’s impossible not to see how new we all are to each other and our shared destiny.

I carry Tillie back to the table, where the others are now seated, and claim the last chair.

Jameson has all his tiny bottles lined up like he’s about to use them as bowling pins.

Ory is fiercely expressionless, his arms crossed over his chest, while Ethan slumps in his seat, his gaze locked onto Tillie.

Jameson aims his classic sneer in my direction. “Is she really out this time, or is she just fucking with us again?”

Ory’s sinister growl inspires Jameson to bring his venom down a notch, proving our petulant pack prick was too distracted by his grievances to notice the transition between Mackenzie and Ory.

Alright, here we go. Constructive pack time—that’s our goal. “She’s sleeping, probably back in her garden with Mackenzie, if I’m not mistaken.”

Ory confirms with a grunt.

“That garden business makes no sense.” Jameson’s jealousy is at the helm and barreling toward every source of his resentment. “Who would believe that shit? If we want the world to take us seriously, we should avoid mentioning the fantasy stuff.”

Hmm, once again, our resident a-hole makes a good point.

Looking a gift horse in the mouth is considered rude, but what’s the consensus on smacking Jameson in the mouth every time he’s disturbingly helpful?

“Okay, let’s discuss. And well done, Jameson, for providing the topic of today’s pack meeting. ”

I’m gratified by Jameson’s sublime horror at the gold star he unintentionally earned, while Ethan seems beyond appalled to discover we’re having a pack meeting right now.

“Ethan, your attendance is voluntary.” I realize his longing stare at Tillie might not be about Tillie at the moment, but her current state of rest.

Ethan’s weary glower worsens. “Could you just tell me whether she said anything, explained her decision at all?”

“Sorry, but she didn’t.”

He nods and then covers his face with his hands, exhaling raggedly.

“Ethan, you need to sleep.” When Ethan appears affronted, like a little boy at bedtime, Ory adds, “It’s not an insult.

You’re a beta.” He nods toward Tillie. “She’s an omega.

We’re alphas.” His lips purse judgmentally as he side-eyes Jameson.

“I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but alphas don’t require much in the way of sleep or even physical rest. If we did, someone’s erotic performances wouldn’t have occurred with such frequency. ”

“Hey, if you can’t keep up, that’s on you,” Jameson snipes.

Ethan thankfully ignores Jameson, holding Ory’s attentive stare long enough that Ory gets the hint and nods.

“Okay, wake me when we land.” Ethan stands and walks toward the sofa, lying on it and closing his eyes.

I don’t feel the alpha push, but I know Ory assisted Ethan into a deep, healing sleep. Better, he did it so subtly that Jameson—now playing with his bottles like they’re tiny soldiers—doesn’t have a clue.

“Okay, back to Jameson’s agenda.”

That elicits even more irritation. “It’s not my agenda—I’m not first alpha . I’m barely even on this team anymore.”

“Right, because what could you possibly offer that no one else can?”

“Exactly—not a thing.”

It’s good that Tillie’s steady heartbeat is soothing me, or I would jerk Jameson out of his chair and shake him. “Yeah, I can see that, except the part about having access to the most powerful man in the country, who can either order our deaths or prevent them.”

Oh, I’m dead to him now, but it doesn’t make me any less correct.

“Grow up, laddie ,” Ory commands, using an accent closer to Mackenzie’s.

“If you don’t, I’m going to make sure that overactive tadger of yours never works again.

” I’m not sure why it’s more sinister with Scottish terminology, but it is, and Ory clearly enjoys antagonizing Jameson with new vocabulary.

Jameson freezes, his focus moving from Ory to his own crotch, before sending his displeasure my way. “Hey, he can’t do that.”

“Oh, he can, and I’ll let him. You’ve had your longest, unchallenged run with Tillie.

Did you even notice that Mackenzie has barely been with her, because she was mounted on your cock for days?

Even an omega needs to do something other than fuck, so Mackenzie took the high road and gladly became her alpha cuddle buddy.

And, with more alphas lined up to bite her, you aren’t the special one anymore. ”

My words land exactly as I meant them to, and his mood shifts again, striking me with its raw truth.

Outwardly, he’s all bravado and snippy entitlement, but what lies at his core is terror.

Of exactly what, I don’t know, but I’m reminded again that we’re still in the first chapter of our pack’s story.

Jameson has been playing nicely, being a genuinely good member of the team, but to think that all his issues magically vanished, just from joining the pack…

that’s not how life works. The way he’s reacting to Ory’s memorable threat conveys more than I want to know, but less than I need to understand, about what Jameson actually sees as his source of worth.

He shoves his bottles aside and leans on the table. “Fine, let’s chat about my daddy and the omegaverse.”