Page 67 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

I escaped to the far side of the room, needing to catch my breath. The event was rolling, creators clustering around interactive displays, execs arguing over the best way to monetize new categories, medical professionals swapping recovery strategies for former suppressant users like baseball cards.

Reid tracked me down, scent of storm and wood and everything that felt like safety.

“Proud of you,” he said, words stripped down to the bone.

“Proud of us,” I countered. I wasn’t letting him put this all on me.

He smiled crookedly, sliding an arm around my waist. “You were the catalyst. Anyone could have tried, but only you were crazy enough to walk into Congress and tell them they didn’t have a clue about how the internet worked. Or about how people like us navigated it.”

“You say that like it’s a compliment,” I deadpanned.

“With you, it always is.”

The others found us in twos and threes, as they always did, orbiting back to the center as if drawn by gravity.

Theo showed up with a tray of champagne, sloshing half the glasses before he even made it.

Jace materialized beside me, silent and grounding.

Ash finished his rounds with the engineers and folded himself into the corner of our circle.

Malik trailed after, eyes sweeping the room, calm but calculating, always.

“To Quinn!” Theo toasted, glittering with pride. “For turning the worst day of her life into a goddamn revolution!”

“To the pack,” I corrected, holding my glass high. “For seeing me and loving me when I needed it the most.”

The sound of clinking glasses was sharp, and the warmth from it lingered. Six months ago, I’d have been hiding in my room, hoping no one noticed me. Now, I was at the eye of the storm, leader of a movement, fully visible, not hiding a single part of myself.

It wasn’t easy. The medical shit alone would have ended most people. The hate mail, the lawsuits, the old guard shoving back, trying to make me eat crow for refusing to play their game. But here I was, not just alive but winning, and building something that might outlast me.

Kara Quinn. Omega. Content creator. Pack member. Industry nightmare. For once, all those roles stitched together instead of fighting for dominance.

And I knew, this wasn’t the end. It was just the part where the story starts to get good.

Later, after the noise and chaos faded, I found myself back in the nest, the one Ash built, round and deep and perfect.

The one that had turned into the gravitational center of our lives.

Tonight, it was quiet, just the afterglow of the event and the weight of everything we’d accomplished humming around me.

I sat in the center, surrounded by the layered scents of my Alphas, and finally let myself process.

We’d blown our projections out of the water; the support was bigger than even the most optimistic timeline said possible.

But that wasn’t the thing that hit hardest. It was the kids who’d found me afterwards, the ones who’d choked out thank-you’s and told me that, for the first time, they didn’t feel like monsters for just existing.

The advocates who wanted to take our model and apply it to every industry.

The doctors eager to pitch our protocols to their clinics and see if it could work for others.

Real change. Tangible. Blood-and-bone real.

“Deep thoughts?” Malik’s voice was soft, pitched low so it wouldn’t break the mood. He settled beside me, hand finding mine like it always did, easy as breathing.

“Just… taking it all in,” I said. “Feels like a lot.”

“It is a lot,” Malik replied, and for a second his calm was so complete I felt my own pulse slow just from proximity. “You did something extraordinary today.”

“We did.”

He squeezed my fingers. “Six months ago, you couldn’t even say the word Omega without apologizing. Now you launched a platform designed to make people like you visible. And there’s a line of creators waiting to follow you through that door.”

Put that way, the contrast was blinding.

“That’s why we have a pack,” he said. “We reflect each other’s growth.”

The rest of them trickled in, summoned by some animal logic.

Theo first, energy dialed a little lower but still enough to light up a room.

Jace next, ghosting in and settling behind me, combing gentle fingers through my hair.

Ash, massive and steady, taking up his usual spot at the foot of the nest. Reid last, filling the space with unspeakable relief.

Ash had no chill, as usual. “Launch metrics are beyond projections by 43%. Creator signups over two hundred percent above model. Infrastructure held, but we’ll need to adapt if it keeps up at this rate.”

“In other words, we kicked ass,” Theo cut in, wriggling closer.

“It’s more than numbers,” Jace said. “The testimonials… the stories we’re hearing. That’s legacy, not just business.”

Reid’s hand found my ankle, a touch that grounded me instantly. “Nonprofit applications spiked. Over three hundred creators seeking suppressants recovery support before dinner.”

Malik nodded. “Three other platforms implemented Heat Disclosure in the last two hours. Your testimony is rolling like a grenade through the industry.”

I soaked in their words, felt the awe of it swirl. I’d only ever wanted to survive. Fix my life enough to stop feeling like I was being eaten alive from the inside out. Never expected to do all this.

“I keep thinking about where I started,” I confessed, voice ragged with honesty. “Hiding my designation. Pretending I wasn’t Omega. Drugging myself to the edge of collapse just to stay invisible.”

“And now you’re running the show,” Theo grinned, the edges of his smile softening. “Omega Queen of the gaming world, leading a revolution, five Alphas orbiting you like satellites.”

Malik cut in, dry as ever. “Let’s avoid burning down the planet unless it’s necessary.”

I laughed, and it was raw and genuine and utterly unguarded. “Deal. No arson tonight.”

Reid’s gaze was steady. “It starts now, you know. Launch was just the opening shot. We have to build the community, change industry assumptions, lock in support for creators still coming off suppressants.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can’t we take one night to just… celebrate? No war council?”

Ash smirked. “We built the nest for a reason. Celebration and recovery. Both are required before tomorrow.”

He was right, of course. My body was ahead of me, as usual.

The warmth started at my chest and pulsed outward: not a crash, not a medical emergency, but a slow, natural build.

My scent shifted, honey and cracked pepper notes deepening, and suddenly the entire nest was alive with five Alpha responses, as primal as a flare in a cave.

“Quinn?” Reid’s voice dropped, smooth and dangerous. “Are you going into heat?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, the buzz of it sparking along my skin. “Right on schedule, for once.”

Six months ago, admitting that would have been a death sentence. Or at least career suicide. Now, it was just a thing that happened. Biology. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Do you want privacy?” Malik asked, respectfully backing off a millimeter but not surrendering an inch of pack support.

I took a beat to sort through the answer. This wasn’t a heat crash, not a trauma response. This was my body, healed and normal and finally ready for what it was meant to do, with a pack that made me feel like the word normal had never been an insult.

“No,” I said. “Stay. I want you all here.”

Immediately, the mood shifted. Heat between us, yes, but also respect, and something else, a current of belonging so deep it made my eyes sting.

“Whatever you need,” Reid said. “You set the terms.”

“Just you,” I answered. “All of you. As my pack. My family. My home.”

As the heat climbed, I could only marvel at how much had changed. My first heat had nearly killed me, torn apart every wall I’d built. The second was agony, but this one… this was real. Whole. Mine.

Theo slid closer, helping with the buttons on my blazer. “Remember when you used to sneak into our rooms for nest supplies and then claim you weren’t nesting?”

I actually laughed. “I had no chill. Zero.”

Ash grunted. “Remember my screwdriver set? You stashed it under the mattress. Hope you know it’s still missing.”

“Worth it. Best nest in the city.”

Jace’s touch on my scalp was featherlight. “You trust us now. That’s the big thing.”

“You made it easy,” I said, and meant it.

Preparing for heat was a practiced dance by this point. Malik stocked hydration, Ash optimized the environmentals, Theo fluffed pillows and gathered fidgets, Jace set up calming noise, and Reid just watched, making sure nothing slipped through the cracks.

This was pack, I realized. Not some claim or title or legal arrangement, but a living thing. A choice, made again and again.

“Ready?” Reid asked, once the nest was perfect.

I looked at all of them. Five Alphas who’d refused to leave, even when I made things as ugly as possible. Five people who had changed everything.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m ready.”

Ready for heat. Ready for the next fight. Ready for whatever came after.

No shame this time. No fear. Just knowing, deep down, that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Kara Quinn. Omega. Competitor. Advocate. Pack. Not a single piece missing.

And as the heat finally hit its stride and five pairs of Alpha eyes locked on me, I felt nothing but gratitude.

Because this wasn’t a burden, not anymore. This was what I’d been built for.

No more hiding. No more surviving.

Now, I was living.

And that changed everything.