Page 15 of Omega Alliance

SIN

Iwatch as Kieran pours water from a gallon container into a medium-sized saucepan, then withdraws a handheld lighter from his pocket and flicks it on over the stovetop. The tiny pinpoint of orange, no larger than the head of a pin, dances upwards and seems to dissolve into the air until at last it catches. The tiny fire gives off an asthmatic hiss, like the opening of a valve, a sound that is unnerving yet also somehow comforting.

The whole thing leaves me fascinated. For this one activity, I am the watcher and I can’t look away. Why is this simple act eliciting so much of a response from me? Am I just reveling in the newness, or could this be part of some buried memory from before?

Kieran doesn't look at me as he speaks. “Once we bring the water to a boil, it should be about ten minutes,” he narrates as he rummages through the kitchen drawers in search of something, then lets out a grunt of satisfaction as he grabs onto a large wooden spoon and swishes it in the air like a conductor’s wand.

And just like that, my senses return to normal. The flame on the stove is just a flame. The lighter, hidden back within the folds of Kieran's pocket, is just a tool.

And Kieran is just another man, an alpha who could capture me and hurt me. I realize now how incredibly vulnerable I am in this situation, and even as I retreat into myself, my body hums with awareness. I want to keep my distance, but it has other things in mind.

I linger on the far side of the kitchen as Kieran stands sentry at the cooktop. I’ve said very little to him since my rescue, and even though the silence between us is awkward, I have no idea what I might say to break the thick tension that hangs in the air between us.

For his part, Kieran seems happy to fill the void with mindless chatter. “The others should be here soon, in case you were wondering. They just had some loose ends to tie up first.”

I want to ask how soon is soon, but I bite my lip to keep from speaking. It may come off as rude, but I’m testing the limits of my newfound freedom. And Kieran doesn’t seem the least bit bothered my hesitation. He just keeps talking, even without the aid of a conversational partner. If I can keep my focus on his words, maybe it will be easier to ignore the unfamiliar sensations lighting across my skin.

“Dani found this place months ago. It’s been sitting empty for a long time. And we knew it would be the perfect place to bring you, once we had the chance, I mean.” Kieran's voice is deep and assertive. When he speaks, I want to listen. Want to obey. And that's not something I like.

I nod and lean back against the counter, attempting to relax inch by inch in this strange new environment.

“Dani has been talking about freeing you for a very long time. Almost as long as she’s known you, actually. And we knew we’d only get one chance to help you, so we had to wait for theperfect opportunity to come along.” He tears open the blue box and pours the macaroni noodles into his pot, stirring with the wooden spoon as the tiny elbow shapes splash into the roiling water. “It was murder on Dani, having to wait so long. The rest of us didn’t know you, but of course we wanted to help too.”

He sucks in a deep breath, his shoulders heave, and then he risks a glance my way. “Am I talking too much? Do you need me to be quiet?”

“N-no.” My voice comes out squeaky and small, a mouse that knows she is tempting a very dangerous tomcat simply by being what she is. A mouse who might run straight into his open maw, if I can’t get a handle on my instincts. My body wants to be devoured, and it wants to be devoured by him.

“You’re frightened,” Kieran observes, stuffing the hand that isn’t holding the wooden spoon into his pocket in a subtle act of submission.

“This is all very new to me,” I respond with a shrug, leaving out the part about my silent war with lust. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now. And, yes, I think fear is definitely one of them.”

His brows pinch together in an unmistakable expression of sympathy. “What can I do to help?”

I lean harder into the counter, feel the laminate top bite into my palms, use it to distract and ground myself. “I don’t know.”

He raises an eyebrow and seems to hold back the whisper of a smile. “Don’t know what you need, or don’t know that I can help?”

I chew on my lower lip to bide my time as I think that over. “Both, I guess.”

“You don’t have to be that girl the Alliance paraded about on TV, Sin. Not with me. Not with any of us.”

His gaze finds mine, and I quickly glance away, unable to handle the intensity reflecting in those bright eyes or how his attention makes me burn with need.

“I know it will take time to adjust. All of this is so new for you. It’s new for us too. But I want to make sure you understand this one thing. It’s okay for you to ask for what you want. It’s okay to have preferences. Needs. You were never allowed to choose before, but you are now. Just remember that, okay?”

I force a smile and say, “Okay.” He doesn’t know what he’s asking of me. None of this is simple. I’ve been actively controlled for the last seven years of my life. It will take a lot of hard work to find who I really am underneath all of the brainwashing and grooming. And jumping straight into bed with the first man to show me any kindness is not the way to do that.

I was only sixteen when they found me, when they took me. I guess that means I'm twenty-three now, but in a lot of ways I'm still the child they stole from the streets.

Kieran doesn’t press me any further as he tends to our dinner. When at last it’s ready, he uses the lid of the pot to strain the water away, then mixes in a neon orange cheese powder and some of the condensed milk.

“Et voila!”he exclaims after pouring a glob of the finished product into a cereal bowl, adding a plastic fork, and nudging it across the counter toward me.

I step forward and grab the bowl. It’s only now hitting me how hungry I’ve become. I should have had dinner at least an hour ago. My stomach knows the schedule and now growls in protest of us having fallen off it.

“Aren’t you going to eat too?” I ask Kieran as I stab a lump of yellow-orange pasta with my fork.

He shakes his head. “I want to make sure you have enough first.”

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