Page 64 of One Wild Omega

“We’ll both see it when we get there,” was all Quinn would say. Quinn’s jaw clenched before he turned to eye Tanner. He frowned slightly and looked back to the road.

Almost no one was out, allowing them to buzz through the city. Tanner’s gut clenched as the car continued to barrel down the road. As they neared, he could see an orange glow in the distance, as well as the smoke rising above. Panic filled his body. His gut twisted.

“A fire?”

Quinn nodded.

“How bad?”

“I don’t know,” Quinn said.

Tanner was left to imagine just how bad. With all his paints and cleaning supplies inside… the studio was a tinderbox. He heard the sirens before he saw the flashing lights. They couldn’t even park close to the building, but a block away, because of all the fire and police cars in the street. The closer he walked toward his building, the more terror filled him. A raging fire fully engulfed his building, which was filled with his masterpieces.

“Sorry, you need to stay back,” one of the police officers said, blocking him from going forward.

“That’s my building!” Tanner spat, his mouth dry as dust.

“I still need you out of the way. The fire department needs to have clear access so this fire doesn’t spread,” the cop said, urging him toward the sidewalk before the bakery.

Tanner stared up at the flames, tears burning the backs of his eyes. Everything he’d created in past months… all his tools… his blank canvasses ready for him to create…

His life…

It was alldestroyed.

Quinn placed an arm around him and pulled tight. “They called me since my name’s on the deed… but it’s yours… you needed to be here.”

An old clause in their parents’ wills had kept his inheritance from him until he mated. The will had been drafted before the Omega Rights laws had changed, but there was nothing that could be done to change it after their deaths. Quinn and Beau used their money to buy him whatever he wanted… but he hated that he had to go to them to ask…

Now what little he did have was gone.

He felt a chill race down his spine as he stared at the firefighters working to stop the blaze. Everything went numb. The sounds muted. The stench of the burning paints and canvasses faded some. The world blurred just a little bit.

“Tanner…” Quinn took a half step closer. “It’s a setback… not the end of everything.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Hey, I was worried you were in there. You weren’t, thank the gods… it’s just some paintings. Paint. Paintbrushes. It can all be easily replaced.”

Easily replaced? Hardly. Tanner stared up at his life’s work going up in smoke.

Quinn drew him in for a hug. “I’m sorry this has happened.”

Tanner didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He could only stare up at the flames consuming everything that washim. A numbness fell over him. He watched as the firefighters heroically fought the blaze… and was almost sure he saw Fitz among the men. Tanner shook his head, forcing thoughts of his alpha from his head. But in his moment of weakness, he imagined having his alpha at his side to hold him when he was at his lowest.

He would never have that and that only made the sting of tears burn all the more.

Tanner watched as the fire spread to new areas, the firefighters chasing it like a living, breathing entity. They doused the buildings on either side with water, trying to keep them from becoming tinder for the flames—almost as if his own was a lost cause.

And he himself felt lost, too.

Then suddenly, Fitzwasthere.

Tanner looked up and saw his alpha at his side. Fitz drew him close, in a tight hug—and in that moment, he let himself melt into the man’s strength. He buried his face in Fitz’s chest and let the tears flow.

Bellamy appeared at some point, wrapping his arms around Tanner, too. Tanner didn’t remember much of what was said, or what happened around him. It was mostly a blur, a sad, heart-wrenching blur. As the sky grew gray and the flames began to finally die down, Mick and Brim appeared—wide-eyed and shaken. They opened their doors and let them sit, and made coffee for all. It was nearing seven in the morning when some of the firetrucks began to pull away.

Tanner rose from his chair and walked just outside the café’s doors. A blackened shell was left behind, even uglier in the light of day. Empty and void of life.

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