Page 22 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

We ate in companionable silence, Malik respecting my obvious desire for space. When he left for his morning stream, I breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense again as Jace appeared, silent as always.

"Morning," he murmured, heading straight for the tea kettle.

"Hey." I watched him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he'd notice anything amiss in the kitchen. Did I take something of his without realizing it? The thought made my stomach clench with anxiety.

"Stream prep today?" he asked, measuring loose tea leaves with precise movements.

"Yeah. Tournament's tomorrow. Need to review the maps again."

He nodded, steeping his tea with methodical patience. "Ash upgraded your rig yesterday. Better cooling, improved latency. Should help with the sensory processing issues."

The casual mention of my condition, stated as a technical problem with a technical solution, somehow made it easier to bear. Jace never treated my withdrawal symptoms as weakness, just as parameters to be accommodated.

"Thanks," I said, meaning it. "He didn't have to do that."

Jace's eyes met mine briefly, something unspoken in their depths. "He wanted to."

Before I could respond, thundering footsteps announced Theo's arrival. He burst into the kitchen with his usual chaotic energy, though he visibly dialed it back when he saw me.

"Morning, sunshine!" he grinned, though his voice was softer than his usual boom. "Ready to dominate some tournament prep today?"

"Born ready," I replied automatically, falling into our familiar banter despite my inner turmoil. "Question is whether you can keep up without your usual gallon of energy drink."

"Please. I'm naturally this awesome." He bounced around the kitchen, grabbing breakfast with frenetic efficiency. "Though speaking of energy drinks, have you seen my limited edition cans? Could've sworn I had one left."

My heart stopped. The red and gold can sitting on my desk, hidden behind my monitor. I'd taken it yesterday, intending to try it, then forgotten completely.

"No idea," I lied, avoiding Jace's too-perceptive gaze. "Maybe check the garage? Ash was reorganizing yesterday."

"Good call!" Theo bounded off, crisis temporarily averted.

Jace said nothing, but something in his expression made me wonder if he'd noticed the slight hitch in my voice, the way my scent might have spiked with guilt.

"I should get to work," I muttered, rinsing my bowl quickly. "Maps won't memorize themselves."

I retreated to my room, closing the door with perhaps a touch more force than necessary. The energy drink can gleamed accusingly from behind my monitor. I needed to return it, along with everything else I'd taken.

Yet even as I resolved to do exactly that, my eyes were drawn to Reid's hoodie draped over my chair. The thought of parting with it sent a jolt of anxiety through me so intense it was almost painful.

"What is wrong with you?" I whispered, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. "They're just objects. Just things."

But they weren't just things. They were anchors, connections, tangible links to the alphas who were becoming increasingly important to me despite all my efforts to maintain emotional distance.

A knock at my door made me jump.

"Quinn?" Reid's voice, deep and commanding even through the wood. "Got a minute?"

My heart rate doubled instantly. Had he noticed the missing cap? The hoodie? Was he here to confront me about my bizarre hoarding behavior?

"Just a second," I called, frantically shoving the most obvious items, his cap and Theo's energy drink, under my bed before opening the door.

Reid stood in the hallway, freshly showered, hair damp, wearing a simple black t-shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful lines of his shoulders. His scent, cedar and thunderstorms, washed over me, making my knees weak despite my best efforts to remain unaffected.

"Tournament prep meeting in twenty," he said, his eyes scanning my face with that unnerving intensity that seemed to see right through me. "Wanted to check if you're up for it or need more recovery time."

"I'm fine," I said automatically, then winced at how defensive it sounded. "I mean, yes, I'll be there."

His gaze traveled past me into my room, and I fought the urge to block his view. Could he see the changes? The subtle rearrangement of space to accommodate items that carried his scent, his pack's scent?

"New setup?" he asked, nodding toward my desk where I'd repositioned my monitors to make room for the various stolen treasures.

"Just experimenting with the layout," I said quickly. "Ash's cooling upgrade needed some adjustments."

Reid nodded, but something in his expression told me he wasn't entirely convinced. "Looks good. More... comfortable."

The way he said "comfortable" sent a shiver down my spine, like he knew exactly what I'd been doing, what instincts were driving me.

"Twenty minutes, main room," he said after a moment, turning to go. "Wear something warm. AC's acting up again."

After he left, I leaned against the closed door, heart pounding. Had he noticed? Did he know? And if he did, why hadn't he said anything?

The questions swirled in my mind as I prepared for the meeting, changing into leggings and a long-sleeved shirt as suggested. As I reached for my hoodie, my hand hovered over Reid's, still draped invitingly over my chair.

"Don't do it," I warned myself. "That's crossing a line."

But the thought of his scent surrounding me during the meeting, keeping me calm and focused while we discussed strategy, was too tempting to resist. Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped his hoodie over my head, instantly enveloped in cedar forests and summer thunderstorms.

It was too big, of course, the sleeves falling past my fingertips, the hem reaching mid-thigh. But it felt right in a way that defied logical explanation. Safe. Secure. Like being wrapped in his presence even when he wasn't touching me.

I rolled the sleeves up, trying to make it look deliberate rather than desperate, and headed for the main room.

The others were already gathered, Reid at the whiteboard, Theo sprawled across the couch, Jace perched on the arm of a chair, Malik cross-legged on the floor, Ash leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

All five pairs of eyes turned to me as I entered. All five expressions shifted in subtle ways as they registered what I was wearing.

Reid's hoodie. His scent all over me. A clear signal to any alpha with functioning senses.

Theo's eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across his face. Jace's expression remained neutral, but his scent, ink and snow, intensified slightly. Malik's eyes widened fractionally before his composure returned. Ash's jaw tightened, his grey eyes darkening.

And Reid... Reid's entire body seemed to go still, his focus narrowing to laser precision as his gaze traveled from the hoodie to my face.

"Sorry I'm late," I said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. "Ready when you are."

A moment of charged silence, then Reid cleared his throat. "Right. Tournament strategy. Let's begin."

The meeting proceeded with surface normality, but underneath ran a current of awareness I couldn't ignore. The alphas were hyperconscious of me in a way they hadn't been before, tracking my movements, attuned to my reactions, their scents shifting subtly whenever I spoke.

And I was equally aware of them, the way Theo's leg bounced with contained energy, the precise angle of Jace's posture, the steady rhythm of Malik's breathing, the controlled strength in Ash's folded arms, the commanding presence Reid exuded without effort.

We discussed flanking strategies and map control, weapon loadouts and communication protocols, all the standard tournament preparation. But beneath the professional conversation hummed something primal and unspoken, the recognition that something fundamental had changed.

I was wearing Reid's scent openly, deliberately. In pack dynamics, that meant something specific, something significant.

And based on their reactions, all five Alphas understood exactly what it meant, even if I was still pretending not to.

After the meeting, I retreated to my room, ostensibly to practice the strategies we'd discussed but actually to have a complete meltdown in private. What had I been thinking? Wearing Reid's hoodie to a pack meeting was like taking out a billboard announcing my Omega instincts were in full control.

Yet even now, I couldn't bring myself to take it off. The comfort it provided was too potent, too necessary as my system continued its unstable recalibration.

"Just until I'm better," I whispered, the justification wearing thinner each time I repeated it. "Just until the withdrawal passes."

But deep down, I knew this wasn't just about withdrawal anymore. The fake bond was starting to feel dangerously real, to my body, to my instincts, perhaps even to my heart.

And based on the way five Alphas had looked at me today, the feeling might be mutual.

The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it felt like coming home.

That was the most frightening realization of all.