Page 113 of Stream Heat
Theo’s whole body went still. “If anyone thinks we’re getting off on watching someone we care about go through a medical crisis and career chaos, they need to check themselves. It’s been hard on all of us. But you don’t bail on someone just because it’s messy.”
“And the speculation about your relationships? There’s a lot of chatter online about pack dynamics, whether it’s romantic or platonic.”
The question made my ribs go tight, but Reid’s presence was another anchor.
“Our relationships are what they are,” I said, jumping in. “Labels aren’t what matters, not compared to respect and choice. What matters is that no one here has ever made me feel like I owe them for their support.”
“That’s the key,” Malik added. “Healthy support comes without strings. It isn’t transactional. You give, because you want someone to be okay.”
crying at how healthy this is
this is what pack should look like
showing my alpha friends this stream
representation matters
From there, we spun out into industry reform, how to tell protection from control, what healthy actually looks like in high-pressure spaces. The chat was wild but mostly positive, trolls drowned out by viewers who seemed almost desperate for proof that real community existed.
“Before we wrap up,” Callie said, “what’s next for you, Kara? Professionally or personally?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “Professionally, I’m talking to platforms that actually value creator independence. Personally…” I looked at the pack again, five pairs of eyes steady on me. “I’m learning to build a life around choice instead of fear. I’m learning how to accept help without losing myself, and how to trust people who’ve earned it.”
“And for other creators dealing with the same stuff?”
“You’re not alone,” I said, locking eyes with the camera, willing the words out into the world. “If someone’s pressuring you to hide who you are for career gain, if you’re dealing withindustry abuse, if you’re afraid to speak up, you’re not alone. There are people who will value you for the real you, not the mask.”
When the stream ended, I felt like I’d finally surfaced for air. The reaction was overwhelmingly positive. The conversation had felt natural, honest. I’d managed to say everything I wanted to, and nothing I’d regret.
“That went really well,” Callie said, wrapping up our debrief. “You guys… whatever that is, it’s working. The care between you is obvious.”
She logged off. The pack started tearing down the camera setup, quiet in that companionable way that comes from a job well done.
I looked around at them and felt something settle down inside me.
“Thank you,” I said. “All of you. For making this feel possible.”
“Thank you for letting us be part of it,” Reid replied. “For trusting us, out loud.”
“We make a good team,” Theo said, that annoying, irresistible grin back in place.
“We really do,” I agreed.
For the first time, optimism tasted like something I could hold onto. Whatever storm came next, I knew we could face it as a pack.
Turns out, that was enough.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kara
I found Theo in the kitchen later that night, and if the sandwich he was making had a soul, it would have been in danger. The way he was manhandling the bread was borderline criminal, the knife hacking through the loaf with way more force than necessary. The ingredients got clapped together so fast, I was surprised none of them broke the sound barrier.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re going to end up with a felony against that sandwich if you’re not careful.”
He glanced up at me, jaw tight, the entire room instantly thick with the smell of frustrated Alpha, sharp green tea, ozone, the edge of a lightning strike. Buried under that were layers I couldn’t untangle. Anger, jealousy, heat, but also something quiet and hopeful he’d never admit to having.
“I’m just showing this sandwich the attention it deserves,” he bit out, the smile he tried to throw on clearly not landing. “Not like some people, who get all the attention around here just for… existing.”
