Page 58 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kara

I woke to Jace's arm slung across my waist, the rise and fall of his chest lined up with my back, heartbeat steady and strong.

That claim mark of his on my wrist throbbed, a dull pleasant ache, a different rhythm than the more insistent bites left by Reid and Theo.

Three bonds. Three flavors of connection.

Each one necessary in its own messy, inexplicable way.

My body felt… altered. Settled. Better than it had since the suppressants first started breaking down.

Dr. Levine, as much as I hated to admit it, had a point about pack bonds stabilizing Omegas, especially ones as fucked up as me.

The shakes were gone. My senses weren’t spiking off the rails every time someone breathed too close.

I took care not to disturb Jace as I slipped from his grasp, then padded into the bathroom.

The person staring back at me in the mirror looked…

different. More solid. Not like I was about to bolt out the window or claw off my own skin.

Some color had returned to my cheeks, and the look in my eyes was clear, even if the storm inside hadn’t quite passed.

My fingers brushed the three scars. Reid’s mark burned into my left shoulder, a sharp border: protection and possession combined, like he thought he could shield me from the world if he tried hard enough.

Theo’s mark on my right, wild and uneven, a scrawl of impulsive joy and madness, which, weirdly, steadied me as much as anything.

And Jace, neat and almost delicate on my wrist, as if he understood how much a constant touch could mean without ever having to say it aloud.

Three claims. Three gaps filled.

But I was still unfinished. The bonds hummed under my skin, not complete, not truly balanced.

Ash and Malik.

Just thinking their names made my stomach lurch.

There was no way they hadn’t noticed the shift, the tilt of pack gravity.

Did they want this too, or were they already counting the ways they’d been left behind?

Everything was changing so fast, I barely had time to catch my breath. But none of it felt wrong.

Once I was showered and dressed (soft shirt, joggers; call me predictable), I followed the scent of coffee and the filter of voices to the kitchen. I stayed in the hall, eavesdropping. It was a bad habit, but if they didn’t want to be overheard, they shouldn’t have talked so damn loud.

“…can’t just expect her to bond with all of us,” Malik said, voice lower than usual. Calm, but not neutral. Definitely worried. “That’s asking a lot, especially after her history.”

“It’s not about expectations,” Reid fired back, clipped. “It’s about what’s already happening. Denying the bonds won’t stop them forming.”

“Question is,” Ash rumbled, “do we push for completion, or let her set the pace?”

“I want completion,” Theo threw in, not bouncy for once. “You’ve seen her. Each bond, she gets stronger. Her withdrawal? Basically gone.”

“That’s not a reason to hurry her,” Malik replied, sharper than usual. “Health matters. So does her choice.”

That was as far as I let them go. I stepped around the corner, into the light.

“Why not just ask the person you’re talking about what she thinks?”

Instant silence. Four pairs of Alpha eyes swiveled toward me. Shock. Guilt. Something that felt distinctly carnal. Jace must’ve followed me in, silent as always, shadowing my movements like a ghost.

“Kara,” Reid said first, his scent reaching for me like a storm front. “How much…”

“Enough to know you’re playing tug-of-war with my future,” I cut in. I tried for annoyed, but it came out more resigned. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought all the same things.

“We were concerned.” Malik was as steady as ever, but I could see the tension in his stance, his need to get this right. “About the speed. About whether you’re feeling… forced.”

I made a beeline for the coffee, fingers tight on the mug. “I’m not pressured. Overwhelmed, sometimes. Confused? Constantly. But not pressured.”

“Confused how?” Ash asked. His gaze was clinical, dissecting.

I drained half my coffee, not pretending to think before I spoke.

“About what it all means. The claims, the marks, the fact that I walked into this house assuming you’d barely tolerate me and now you’re all…

this.” I lifted my arm, the three marks visible on my skin.

“Don’t act like biology isn’t a factor. Maybe this isn’t real at all.

Maybe it’s just broken designation, desperate for a fix. ”

Malik looked at me like I’d said something profound. “Does it matter? If you feel better, if it helps you heal, does it change the value?”

That stopped me. “I… honestly? I don’t know.”

Theo jumped in, unwilling to give the silence a chance to breathe. “It’s both, Kara. Biology and will. You choose, even when your body lit up like a Christmas tree. You always choose.”

Jace, who was still shadowing me, said, “Surface attraction is empty if there’s nothing underneath. You know the difference. I know you do.”

I flexed my hand, finger tracing Jace’s mark. “This doesn’t feel empty. It feels… right. The whole mess of it.”

The air went thick, every Alpha in the room watching me, weighing what came next.

“So what now?” I finally asked, eyes darting between Ash and Malik. “How does this end, for us? The pack, I mean.”

Ash was unreadable as always, but the tang of vanilla and smoke in the air betrayed him. “That depends. What do you want, Quinn?”

I should have had an answer ready. Instead, it was a fragment. “I want the bonds finished. I want things complete. Balanced. All the pieces where they belong.”

Malik’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “And what does that look like?”

So simple when I laid it bare: “It looks like all of you. I want you all. Reid’s protection. Theo’s chaos. Jace’s calm… And whatever it is you two bring that I don’t have words for yet.”

Ash finally moved, shifting like he was about to pounce. “So you want all the claims. Every bond.”

“Yes.” Not a stutter. Not a doubt. “Unless that’s not what you want.”

Ash’s whole body tensed, his voice dropping lower. “As if there was ever a question.”

One second he was leaning against the counter, the next he was right in front of me, making the kitchen feel too small. I held my ground. I didn’t flinch.

“I’ve wanted you since the second you set foot in this house, attitude and all.” His eyes bored into me. “But I don’t like to share, Quinn. Even with pack.”

I let that sink in. He wanted me, but on his terms. He wasn’t here for polite compromise. “What are you saying?”

Malik nudged in beside him, a quieter force shoring up the edge Ash always brought. “Each claim is different. You must’ve felt that already. Ash’s… won’t look like the others.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Define ‘different,’ Malik.”

Ash’s answer was abrupt. “It’s exclusive. Possessive. I don’t know how to do what Theo does. Or Jace. Or even Reid. I only know how to take, and claim, and not let go.”

Theo snorted. “We noticed, big guy.”

I was starting to get it. Reid’s claim was about boundaries and safety and letting me belong without caging me. Theo’s was all chaos and shared space. Jace’s: stability, no strings or pressure. But Ash… Ash wanted more. A singular bond, not just a pack loop.

“And you, Malik?” I challenged.

He smiled, smaller and sharper. “Choice. Deliberation. My claim isn’t about drive, it’s about choosing what makes us fit. I never force connections. I let them grow.”

That made sense. Different energies, holding different pieces together. No wonder everything kept tilting until it landed in the right configuration.

“I want both,” I told them, fierce despite my own racing heart. “I want to feel what makes each bond unique.”

Ash’s eyes went black-dilated. “Are you sure? I don’t do gentle.”

I matched his stare. “Survived years of suppressants and public heat crash. I don’t break easy.”

He approved, I could tell. Maybe it even excited him, the idea that I wouldn’t just lie down and play soft for him.

Malik laid a hand on Ash’s forearm, voice as smooth as ever. “Maybe we take this somewhere private, so Quinn has her say without an audience.”

It was tempting to stall. But I was so tired of waiting. “No point in delaying. I know what I want.”

That landed hard. Every Alpha in the kitchen went wired at once, pack bonds buzzing with anticipation.

Ash was the one to break the moment. “Fine. No audience. My workshop. My way.”

I nodded, meeting his gaze. “Lead on.”

Reid stepped closer, not quite blocking but definitely reminding me that I could always call it off. “You don’t owe us this, Kara.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why it matters.”

That seemed to satisfy him. Jace and Theo watched, saying nothing, but I could feel their support. Malik looked at me like he was already running calculations on how this shifted the whole dynamic.

Ash’s hand at the small of my back was heavy, grounding. He guided me out of the kitchen, not rough or hurried, just inexorable.

One of Ash’s workshops sat at the far end of the house in what was probably a garage at some point and I knew that he had a secondary one in the basement as well.

This one was a fortress built from workbenches, scattered tools, and half-finished projects.

Nothing in there was accidental. Every wire, every label, every circuit board had a purpose.

He closed the door with a solid finality. No going back now.

“You built all this?” I asked, letting my hand drift over a custom cooling tube.

“I need to know my tools,” he said, turning the locks. “I don’t trust what I can’t take apart and understand.”

He wasn’t talking about gadgets anymore. He was talking about me.

“Is that why you watch me so closely?” I asked.

He didn’t flinch. “I notice things others miss. You act like you’re not scared, but I know different. You flinch at compliments but never at competence. You crave stability, but you’ll bite anyone who tries to give it to you.”