Page 1 of Where There’s Smoke (Fire House Omegas #2)

Melody

“ Y ou're being such a good girl,” I cooed as I gently pulled the bottle away from the puppy’s lips.

She looked at me so grumpily, I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry, sweet baby, there’s no more! Give me an hour, and I’ll make you another bottle,” I said, wrapping her up in a blanket and placing her back in her small pen.

The tiny Dalmatian puppy, who couldn't have been older than two weeks, had been found in a dumpster a few blocks away, and a good samaritan had brought her to me.

I was somewhat known in the local community as the rescuer who would do anything and take on any case.

I’d jumped over a fence to rescue a bunny one time, and now I had a reputation.

As far as reputations went, though, I wasn’t mad at it. All animals deserved a fair shake, and so many were neglected. My little rescue wasn’t much, and it ran on a shoestring budget, but it was all mine, and every life we managed to help made me so happy.

Standing up, I stretched, reaching my hands to the ceiling, my back complaining as I did so. Sitting on the floor, feeding puppies, wasn't exactly the most comfortable activity, but it was so fun and adorable, I wasn’t going to complain.

Now, the unnamed puppy was snoozing in her blanket, happily fed.

So I picked up the empty bottle and padded out of the room toward the kitchen, stopping a few times to pet dogs in the kennels.

For once, the shelter wasn't at capacity. We had eight dogs in residence and five cats. We’d had some bunnies, but they had recently been adopted by a local firefighter I was friends with.

Rune had rescued his bunny Sooty from a fire several years ago and had been the most active and attentive bunny dad since then.

He’d texted me at all hours of the night, paranoid that he wasn't doing a good enough job.

It had taken a little patience and time, but Rune found his feet and became a kickass owner.

Recently, he found an omega, and they moved into a house together with his pack. So, with the extra room, he decided to get Sooty a friend.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. Rune’s omega was stunning and sweet, like all omegas. The way he looked at her as though she hung the moon made my chest burn with jealousy.

Was it so wrong that I wanted someone to look at me that way? Not him—he’s taken—but someone just for me?

Sunny was extra lucky; she had several someones. As an omega, she’d joined a pack and, as a result, had three doting alphas who adored her.

I wasn't an omega. I was just a beta, which meant there were no loving packs in my future.

Sure, it wasn't completely unheard of for a beta to join a pack, but there was a tendency for that to go awry.

Alphas were hardwired to ultimately love and adore their omegas.

Betas didn't fit into that dynamic easily.

So, they tended to be monogamous. I had always known that I would settle down with another beta one day.

Them’s the breaks, I guess.

Still, that didn't stop the green-eyed monster from rearing its head every now and again when I saw just how adoringly omegas were treated. The bond that alphas and omegas formed was unlike anything else. It was an emotional and physical connection, and it was beautiful.

I couldn't let myself dwell on it for too long, though. There was work to do.

In the kitchen, I started rinsing the bottle, placing it on the drying rack as I hummed lightly to myself.

I was already in my mid-twenties, and I hadn't even dated all that much.

My parents had set me up on way too many dates when they realized their daughter was somewhat pathetic and failing to find a partner on her own, but their choices definitely didn't align with my desires.

When I had moved across the country to avoid their attempts, they finally got the message and left me to my own devices.

Several times, I had endured boring dinner dates with beta men who were so self-absorbed and determined to climb the corporate ladder, I was surprised they even dared leave their office to go on a date. No, thank you .

If I had to sit through one more dinner with a man explaining finance to me or telling me my little animal rescue hobby was cute, I was going to scream.

No matter what I told my parents, they didn't seem to understand that corporate guys didn't do it for me. Deep down, I wanted someone more rugged, more manly… more alpha .

I needed to accept that I wasn't going to have that, though.

But maybe a beta who didn't mind going to the gym a few times a week and played a sport wasn't too much to ask. Or someone who would be willing to help me build dog kennels, who wouldn't freak out at the idea of getting his hands dirty.

God, on one of my disastrous dates, I had mentioned building a new playpen for the kittens, and the guy had said that was manual labor , and he would hire someone to do that with a sneer on his face.

Honestly, I didn’t think I'd ever been as turned off in my entire life as I had been in that moment. I didn’t stay for dessert, which is saying a lot because they had a caramel milk cake that looked phenomenal.

My stomach grumbled as I put the bottle away, so I opened the old fridge, glancing through it.

All the equipment in the kitchen—which was nothing more than a glorified break room—was on its last leg.

Most of it had either been donated, or I had found it at estate sales, ridiculously cheap.

Why spend money on kitchen supplies when I could put that money toward helping the animals?

Everything I had went into the shelter. In fact, I even slept in one of the back rooms. We relied on donations to fund everything, and there was no way in hell I could afford an apartment and all the animal care that was needed, so a storeroom bed it was.

It worked out surprisingly well, considering I had to wake up every two to three hours to bottle feed the puppy. I had asked the Good Samaritan who had brought her in where they had found her, and I'd attempted to find her mother, but I’d had no luck.

So I was going to do my darn best to keep the puppy alive and well. Even if that meant very little sleep.

Nothing new there, if I was honest. Animals didn’t run on a regular nine-to-five schedule. They were their own masters, so to speak.

I had been woken up many times by an early morning barking orchestra because the dogs decided they wanted to be chatty.

A smile spread across my face when I noticed the microwave burrito in the back of the freezer. I didn't want to think about how long it had been there, but it would do. Grabbing it, I unwrapped the thing and placed it in the old microwave, turning on the timer and grinning as it hummed to life.

As my treat was turning in the microwave, barking grabbed my attention. The dogs could sometimes work each other up. If one of them started barking, they all would. So, I padded out of the kitchen and to the kennels.

Lilly, a sweet little cocker spaniel, who’d come to me through no fault of her own, was barking at her bed.

“Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?” I asked softly as I approached her pen. The closer I got, the more apparent the issue became. Her favorite chew toy was wedged under her bed, and she couldn't reach it.

Laughing lightly to myself, I wandered into her kennel and picked up the toy, handing it to her. She snatched it with her mouth, her tail going a mile a minute.

As I went to stand, the smell of smoke hit my nose. I looked around, wondering what the source of the smell was. Had I accidentally burned my burrito? That seemed a bit fast, didn’t it?

Softly closing Lilly’s kennel, I made my way toward the kitchen. As the smell of smoke only increased, panic rose in my chest.

With horror, I noted the smoke billowing out of the room.

Shit .

It took a moment for me to act, and then I rushed forward. “Crap, crap, crap!”

That was what I got for using old equipment.

With my heart in my throat, I looked around, quickly assessing the situation as the fire alarms started to ring out.

I needed to evacuate the animals.

The dogs needed leashes, and the cats needed carriers. With terror flooding my veins, I ran to the far wall, grabbed a variety of leashes, and headed straight to the kennels. The dogs, already smelling the smoke, were going insane, barking wildly and jumping up and down in their kennels.

Thick, dark smoke choked me as I gathered up the residents in the dog room.

They were all stressed, and getting a leash on a stressed dog was more than difficult.

Once I had the first four, I ran to the other side of the building.

I had no idea where I was going to put them, but I needed to get them out of the building somehow.

As I dashed out the door, I noticed several people standing outside, watching the smoke streaming out of the building. A small crowd was gathering, gaping at the scene and doing nothing to help.

“Take them!” I shouted, handing the leashes to a woman who was watching with intense worry.

She took the leashes without question, shouting at me over the sirens. “We called the fire department!”

I nodded, thanking her before turning back to the building.

The smoke was getting thicker, but I was able to wrangle the last four dogs into leashes and get them out of the building, handing them to the same woman, who had distributed the dogs among the small crowd, so each of them was held by an onlooker, keeping them safe.

It probably wasn't smart to run back into a burning building, but there was no way I was going to leave. With more animals in there, I couldn't. It would be downright cruel of me. They were scared and alone, and they needed help.

My help.

As I was turning back to the building, the fire engine pulled up, and several firefighters hopped out. Glancing over at the engine, I notice the large #17 on the side.

My friends worked for Station Sixteen, and part of me had been hoping that they would come. But help was help, right?

“You can’t go in there!” one of the firefighters shouted as he ran over to me.

“I haven't evacuated the cat room!” I explained over my shoulder as I barreled ahead, ignoring his warning.

Without a single thought about the firefighter, I dashed into the cat room, running to the far wall where we kept the carriers. There were a few cats that I could throw into the same carrier, but some that needed to be in their own.

“Stubborn woman!” the same voice echoed as he followed me, his large boots thundering on the floor so loudly I could hear it over the roaring flames.

“Yell at me later. Are you going to help me?” I said, shoving a carrier at him. “There're two kittens in that far pen. They can go in there.”

The firefighter in question wasn't wearing his face mask, so I could see the utter bafflement in his eyes. He had short, messy dark hair and bright green eyes, visible even through the smoke.

Thankfully, he didn't wait around too long, taking the carrier. He did as I told him while I scooped up a pair of old tabbies and tossed them unceremoniously into a carrier.

We had the two pairs in carriers. All that was left was the small old ragdoll that had come in last week. She was a bit on the spicy side, so scooping her up proved to be difficult, and I definitely got a few claw marks in my arm as I shoved her not so gently into the carrier, but it was worth it.

“Is that all of them?” the firefighter asked, nodding toward the side of the room where smoke was slowly starting to seep in.

I shook my head, my heart sinking as I remembered my new buddy. “One more, other side of the building. Two-week-old puppy!”

He nodded. “I’ll get them.”

Two other firefighters entered the room, and without a word, he handed them the cats, instructing them to get them to safety.

“I'll go with you. I need to get their food and medicine!”

“I can get that!” he shouted as his radio crackled.

“You don't know what I need!” I called out without looking back.

“You can't stay in here! The fire is growing!” I could hear the annoyance in his voice, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. There was a tiny dog who needed help.

I shook my head. “Follow me.”

Not waiting for his response, I sprinted across the rescue, narrowly missing the large cloud of smoke coming out of the kitchen. It was starting to get thick, and my throat was burning, my eyes watering as I tried to sink lower.

I was in the puppy room in no time, scooping up the little bundle of fur and wrapping a blanket around her to help her breathe a little easier. With her in one hand, I started grabbing her formula and bottles, thrusting them at the firefighter, who took them with an astonished expression.

Opening the cabinets, I was trying to find where the spare formula was, ignoring the smoke that was rapidly pouring into the room, when the sound of the firefighter cursing hit my ears.

Before I could even register what he was doing, I was swept up into a set of arms and carried out of the building, bridal style.

“Hey!” I protested.

“You've got the puppy, and you've got some of the equipment. Now, you’re going to wait outside, you hear me?” he grumbled, carrying me straight outside to the fire engine and setting me on the ledge.

I could only gape at him. He had picked me, my supplies, and the puppy up like it had been nothing and carted us out of the building without a second thought.

Part of me wanted to be mad at him, because he had stopped me from getting everything I wanted from that room, but I was also oddly impressed.

And then there was the gratitude seeping in as I realized just what was happening.

All thought quickly escaped when I took in my surroundings. The fire was no longer contained to simply the break room. Smoke was pouring out of multiple windows. The animals were out, which was a relief, but the rescue I had worked so hard to build was rapidly burning down in front of me.

That place was all I had. It was everything. My career, my home, and the only physical thing I had to show for myself, aside from the living animals I didn’t always see again. And it was…just burning. All of it was up in a whoosh of smoke, and for what? Some stupid burrito?

What could I do now?

My bottom lip trembled as I chewed it until I tasted blood. I had nothing. There was nothing left of everything I’d built, and insurance was only going to do so much. How was I supposed to live and work now?

There were only a few times in my life that I could remember being truly hopeless, truly terrified.

Tonight put them all to shame.