Page 31 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

I stared at my hands, not trusting myself to look up. “If I accept this... if I let myself need you... what’s left of who I am?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Everything that makes you, you. The drive. The skill. The way you see opportunities on the board that no one else does. Your stubbornness. Your loyalty. None of that disappears because you accept help. It’s just more honest.”

The sincerity just about broke something inside me. I could handle anger, I could handle mockery, but this kind of care? That was harder.

“The others probably think I’m pathetic,” I blurted. The shame festered, raw and ugly. “After what happened during the stream. The begging, the mess, the way I lost it...”

He cut me off. “No one thinks that. Not a single one of us.”

“How can they not?” I looked up, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. “I was basically crawling out of my skin. The second you all got close, I lost every ounce of self-control. I…you saw it.”

“I saw a teammate in distress,” he said, voice like steel. “A medical emergency. That’s it.”

“That’s a load of crap, and you know it,” I snarled, lashing out because it was safer than letting the hurt show. “You expect me to believe that five Alphas watched an Omega break down and didn’t think ‘she wants to be knotted’?”

Reid’s jaw ticked. “So that’s it? We’re just biology to you. Designation robots.”

The accusation made me wince. “No. That’s not, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“If that’s how you see us, then what are you even doing here?” He crossed his arms, and the anger in his scent spiked. “Maybe this really is just a business arrangement to you.”

The idea of that? The idea that they didn’t care, that it was all just content? It felt like falling off a cliff. “That’s not what I meant.” I swallowed hard. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm. So... unbothered.”

“Unbothered.” He laughed, low and humorless.

“We haven’t slept for more than three hours at a stretch since your heat started, Kara.

We’ve all doubled up on suppressants so we wouldn’t make things worse for you.

Theo spent two days deep-cleaning the entire kitchen.

Ash built three new PCs. Jace hasn’t said more than ten words.

Malik’s been meditating to keep from losing it.

But none of us wanted you to see what we were dealing with. We just wanted you to get through it.”

I stared, stunned. “I didn’t... I didn’t realize.”

He shrugged, helpless. “That was the point. You had enough on your plate. No one wanted to add to it.”

It pierced through the last of my defenses. I felt the echo of guilt and shame, mixed with a weird longing to just... not be alone with this anymore. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For assuming the worst.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, softer now. “No one blames you for being sick.”

“I’m not apologizing for that,” I replied. “I’m apologizing for thinking you’d all see me differently. For not trusting you.”

He searched my face, and for a moment it felt like he was seeing everything I didn’t want to admit. “Can I ask you something?”

I nodded, bracing myself.

“Why are you fighting this so hard? The pack bonds. Is it just about independence, or is there something else?”

It was the question I’d been dodging for weeks. I didn’t want to give it words, but I owed him that much. I forced myself to look him in the eye.

“What happens when the six months are over?” My voice was barely audible. “When you don’t need me for content anymore. If I let myself... need you, depend on all of you... what happens when you’re gone?”

He stopped, like he hadn’t expected that answer. “You really think this is just a contract, don’t you.”

“Isn’t it?” I fired back. “That’s what we agreed.”

He closed the distance, stopping at the edge of my nest. The way he looked at me, it was like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Does this feel temporary to you?” he asked, voice soft. “This nest? The way we’ve all bent over backward to make sure you’re okay? You don’t build something like this for just ‘business.’ Not even for content.”

I couldn’t speak. I just listened.

“For me, it stopped being business a long time ago,” Reid continued. “Maybe before I even met you in person. You remember that first stream? That’s when it changed for me.”

Saying it out loud made everything real.

He was right.

I’d been pretending. Hiding behind old habits, old fears. Maybe that was why the shame and the hope both hurt so much.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Of being vulnerable. Of what happens if I let myself care and then you all just... leave.”

He reached out, palm up, not quite touching. “That’s not an Omega thing, Kara. That’s a people thing. And you don’t have to figure it out alone. That’s what packs are for.”

Before I could answer, Theo shoved the door open with zero subtlety. “Sorry to break up whatever serious convo this is, but we have a situation.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Reid sighed, clearly annoyed at the interruption. "What kind of situation?"

"The hovering, sign-holding kind," Theo said cryptically.