Page 74 of Generation Omega: Claimed (Originverse #3)

Tillie struggles to breathe over her sobs.

“It’s not fair for me to be authentic while you pretend to be someone you’re not.

It’s not fair for my mind to comfort you while yours is closed to me.

It’s not fair for me to respect you while you don’t respect me.

I’m not your submissive, Jameson, and certainly not some random chick you’re taking for a ride.

I’m your omega, the woman who was made to love you, laugh with you, cry with you, and bang you like there’s no tomorrow.

You told me I couldn’t hold anything back from you, and I’m not, but you are, and that’s not how this will ever work.

You promised that if I jumped, you’d jump with me, but you didn’t. You let me fall alone.”

I’m rocking her with arms that will never tire of holding the weight of my omega. “ Shh , honey, just breathe. It’s okay.”

She tries to jerk away from me, but that’s not going to happen. “No, it’s not okay. Nothing will ever be okay if you refuse to be my alpha.”

“I’m not refusing anything.”

“But you are. You caught me, lassoed me even, and then you threw me away as soon as I made you angry.”

My voice is rough with pure, horrific, possibly fatal regret. “You didn’t make me angry—that’s not it at all.”

“Then why?”

“When I could hear your thoughts—when I knew exactly how you felt about everything I did, how I looked, what we were doing—I felt safe… like I belonged. When you shut me out, I thought it was because you regretted bonding such a vain, vapid, narcissistic troll. I went from having answers and certainty to spiraling and drowning in doubts.”

I brush away some of her tears, knowing if I don’t find my words now, I don’t deserve to be her alpha. “I’m so fucking sorry I let you down. That is the last thing I would ever want to do. It hurts like hell, Tillie, to care again… but I do. I care about you. I… love you, and it fucking sucks.”

Her eyes widen at the love part, and then she cackles at the sucks part. “Jameson!”

“Well, it does. Caring sucks. Loving sucks. Consciences are wholly overrated, which is why nobody uses them anymore. It’s not like decency is ever trending—am I right?”

Tillie’s smiling with her tears still falling, though maybe not for the same reason. “Say it again, even if it sucks.”

I brush the pad of my thumb over her gorgeous heart-shaped lips. “I love you, Tillie.” I grimace, recognizing just how long my road back to humanity will be. “You need to know something before you decide whether I can stay.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to be that man, the one my mother raised me to be.

I barely remember anything about her or who I was while she still lived.

As soon as we bonded, you started thinking about my mom and me, and it brought it all back—everything I thought I’d destroyed, all the memories that hurt too much to remember. ”

“I knew it bothered you.”

“But it didn’t. I cherished hearing her voice again in your mind.”

Jamie . Tillie is thinking it—my nickname spoken by my mother—and opening her thoughts to me once more.

Jamie, you’re going to camp, and you’re going to be an archer, a climber, a hiker, a white-water rafter.

You’re going to be everything you wish for a whole month, and I’ll be here when you get back.

Alone with Tillie in the back of a box truck, it all breaks free, the levees I’ve been constantly tending since that day.

Because my mother wasn’t there when I got back.

She didn’t even tell me she was sick, and she died while I was gone.

The next time I saw my mother was in her coffin, and I wanted to crawl inside and be buried with her.

But I didn’t, because I was too afraid of small, dark spaces with no exits.

Only now can I see that I’ve been judging myself for living ever since.

Tillie grips me as tightly as I grip her, as we let the tsunami take us out to sea—together. I don’t know how long reality waits for us to return, but the emptiness I always feared isn’t what I find. I’m full, overflowing even, with love for my woman, my Tillie.

“Please, I’ll do better, but I need your help. Can you handle a dysfunctional alpha?”

Tillie’s chuckles echo around us, sounding like a chorus. “Just one? I could’ve sworn I had a few damaged alphas.” Then she moves her hands over my cheeks, brushing away my tears. “We’re all broken, Jameson—all of us—but that’s the point. Together, we’ll be better.”

“ Jamie … please, will you call me Jamie?”

Her smile takes my breath away. “I love you, Jamie.”

“And I love you, Tillie.” I’m suddenly wearing an authentically depraved grin, and the spark in her eyes confirms she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“You know,” she muses, “I’ve never been screwed silly in the back of a moving truck.”

“Really?” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “You know what I’ve never done?”

“What?”

“Missionary.”

Tillie loses control of stunningly perfect laughter. When she finally can speak, it’s still through hiccupy giggles. “Are you suggesting we cross a couple things off our bucket lists by having conventional sex in the back of a truck?”

“I sure am. What do you say, darling? Are you ready to be lassoed again?”

“Only if it’s forever this time.”

“That’s a promise, little lady.”