Page 32 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Kara

Reid backed away from me and turned toward Theo frowning. “What?”

“Your fan club showed up.” Theo was grinning, unbothered, as he glanced at me.

“Apparently someone posted a clip from your heat crash, and now half the Omega streaming community is camped out on the lawn. They’ve got care packages.

Bubble tea. Thai food. I think one of them crocheted you a little plushie.

It might even be of Reid, I can’t really tell. ”

If embarrassment could kill, I’d have died right then. “You’re messing with me.”

“Not even a little,” Theo said. “There are snacks. They look really good, actually.” He vanished.

Reid hesitated, glancing at me, then at the door. “I should check on that.”

“Go,” I said, still reeling. “I need to shower anyway.”

He nodded, but at the door, he paused. “For what it’s worth? None of us care how messy this gets. We just want you to let us have your back.”

When he and Theo left, I sat there for a long time, surrounded by my embarrassing, undeniable nest. I reached for one of the hoodies, tugged it closer, and breathed in the Alpha scent.

I thought about Malik’s cushion, about Theo’s flannel, about the little things I’d collected from each of them.

None of it was about biology, when I got down to it.

It was about who they were, and how they’d treated me, and the fact that for the first time, I wanted to belong, not because I had to, but because with them, it felt right.

The thought didn’t make me feel weak. It made me feel, oddly, like things could get better.

There was no guarantee. My body was still a dumpster fire.

My future might suck. But for the first time, I could actually picture something beyond medical emergencies and old shame.

A future where I didn’t have to be alone with the hard stuff.

Where I could be Kara Quinn, all of me, not just what I’d trained myself to show.

After a hot shower, I drifted downstairs, mostly because I wanted to see whether Theo was lying about the “fan club.” I found Malik at the stove, stirring something that smelled amazing.

Ash and Jace were glued to their laptops at the island.

They all looked up when they noticed me, like they weren’t sure how to act now that I was vertical again.

“Hey.” I hovered in the doorway, still on edge. “Is the crowd really outside?”

“Theo and Reid are talking to them,” Malik said. “They’re fine.”

“How are you feeling?” Jace asked, not quite looking at me.

“Better.” I edged into the kitchen. “Mostly wishing I could die of embarrassment.”

“Don’t,” Jace replied, deadpan. “It was a health issue. It’s over.”

It meant more than I’d expected, the way he just... dismissed the drama. Like none of them were holding it against me.

“Dr. Patel said my system should stabilize if we keep adjusting the meds,” I said, resting my palms on the cool granite. “But the damage is there. I did a number on myself.”

Ash’s hands tightened on his keyboard, rage flickering in his eyes. “The suppressants.”

I nodded. “Eight years on military doses. It doesn’t come cheap.”

He grunted, like he was holding back a lecture. Malik just gave me a steady look. “No one blames you for doing what you had to,” he said.

I looked away, because the acceptance stung in a different way. I wasn’t used to it. I changed the subject. “So. Omega streamers?”

“They started a hashtag,” Jace said, coming up next to me. “#StandWithQuinn.”

I peeked out the window. A handful of people were on the lawn, holding up homemade signs.

Quinn Is Queen.

Omega Streamers Unite.

Health Before Content.

“They dropped off care packages, too,” Malik said, smile almost visible as he stirred the soup. “Snacks, recovery stuff, even a couple toys.”

I pressed my forehead to the glass and, for the first time all week, felt like maybe things weren’t hopeless after all.

Even as the hope stirred in my chest and I stared at the overflowing display of support, something bitter and tight inside me tried to fight back, but after a few moments of breathing through it, it finally gave way.

"I don't get it," I admitted, voice flat.

"Why are they backing me? I lied about being an Omega for years. "

Ash just shrugged, deep voice lower than usual. "Because they know why you did it. They had to make the same bullshit calls to survive."

The simplicity of that hit me all at once, like a punch I hadn't seen coming.

These weren't just randos feeding on drama for clicks.

These were Omegas who'd lived the same double-life, survived the same industry that forced me to hide.

And now, instead of tearing me down for it, they were closing ranks.

The front door opened; Reid and Theo came in, arms full of massive gift baskets.

"Your fan club sends their love," Theo said, dropping his haul on the counter. "Also, enough heat support products to run a black market out of our apartment."

"They're heading home now," Reid added, eyes cutting straight to me. "But they're streaming all week. Something about 'taking back the narrative.'"

I drifted over to check the baskets out. Heat packs, Omega-friendly snacks, soft blankets, handwritten notes. Stuffed way in the bottom, a set of custom gaming peripherals for Omegas with sensory issues. Exactly what I'd been struggling with last week.

"This is..." I had to pause, breath catching and throat tightening.

"Community," Malik said, matter-of-fact. "Been a while since you had one, huh?"

He nailed it. In my desperation to out-Beta the Betas, I'd gone out of my way to avoid other Omegas, to avoid anything that looked like weakness. I'd missed the one thing that might've actually made this shit easier.

I gestured helplessly, at the baskets, the kitchen, the five of them. "I don't even know what to do with this. With any of it."

"You don't have to figure it out tonight," Reid said, coming to stand beside me. His scent, all cedar and rain, wrapped around me and I realized my heartbeat had finally, finally slowed. "One thing at a time. Like eating."

"Soup's ready," Malik called, turning back to the stove. "Protein, easy on your stomach."

I watched them move around the kitchen, setting the table, pouring drinks, passing each other plates without looking. Not just some charity case for a sick teammate. This was pack stuff. This was instinct. It wasn’t showy. It was unconscious and impossible to fake.

And I belonged to it. Even if I'd been pretending not to.

Theo slid into a seat and grinned. "Now that Quinn is done being a feral heat-goblin, can we talk about her nest? Because I have never seen so many stolen Alpha t-shirts, or such expert pillow fortification."

Heat climbed up my neck as everyone looked at me. "I was going to put everything back," I muttered at my soup.

"No you weren't," Ash deadpanned. "And we don't want you to."

I did a double-take, not expecting him to be so blunt.

"It's good for your recovery," Jace said, quiet but certain. "More of your scent, more of ours, more stability."

I squinted at them. "You were tracking my scent?"

"Obviously," Reid said, as if it were self-explanatory. "It's the best way to know how you're doing."

That admission settled something inside me. These guys weren't just waiting on me to collapse. They'd been adjusting, tending, taking my needs seriously even while I avoided the truth.

"Dr. Patel says I need to stop fighting the pack stuff," I told them, the words tumbling out easier than I expected. "She thinks that's partly why my recovery is so unpredictable now. That I need the stability, and that... denying it is making everything worse."

They all went still, five pairs of eyes boring into me.

"And what do you think?" Malik asked, voice softer than I'd ever heard it.

It took everything in me to say it, but I did.

"I think she's right. I think I'm making myself sick by fighting the one thing that might actually help.

And..." I made myself look at each of them, ".

..I think I'm tired of pretending this is just streaming when it's obviously more than that. For all of us."

The tension in the room snapped. Five Alpha scents flared with instant, hungry relief, something urgent and satisfied surfacing at once. Pack bonds, I realized. They wanted it as badly as I did, and had been waiting for me to finally admit it.

"About time," Theo muttered, not even hiding his grin. Jace elbowed him, which just made Theo smirk harder.

"So what, now?" I said, suddenly uncertain. "Do we, like, sign a pack contract? Have a meeting and assign pack chores? I have no idea what happens next."

Reid's mouth twitched. "It's not formal like that. You just... let it happen. Keep each other's scent close, support each other, maybe spend more time together in the same room. It's gradual."

"But there are things we can do," Malik said. "Like intentional scenting, meals together, helping you through heats. Whatever makes it easier."

The mention of heats made my stomach curl. "That. You're not obligated to... I mean, just because I'm not fighting pack bonds doesn't mean I'm agreeing to anything else. Especially in heats."

Reid's gaze turned all business. "Agreed. No expectations like that, Kara. It's for support, not... anything else. Unless you ask."

Theo held up his hands, mock-innocent. "But if you ever do want to know what five Alphas can do, consider me the sign-up sheet."

"Theo," Malik warned, but the edge of his smile betrayed him.

"I'm just being practical," Theo shrugged. "She's hot, we're hot, let's not pretend the thought never crossed our minds."

Instead of making my skin crawl, it actually broke the tension. "You mean the part where I begged you all to fuck me and got completely rejected?" I asked dryly.

The table went silent for a hot second.

Then Theo started laughing. "We are the world's most useless Alphas. Our ancestors are rolling in their graves right now."