Page 122 of Stream Heat
No one argued. They just understood. This wasn’t about favoritism or rank. It was about what felt right.
I watched Jace as he closed the last few steps, not with a lunge, but with a reverent stillness. For a moment I thought he’d freeze again, let the space between us swell with all the words he’d never say. Instead, he slid his hands around mine, so delicate they trembled, and traced my knuckles with his thumbs as if he were memorizing their shape. He didn’t need words. His scent filled the air: sharp with longing, threaded through with a humility that felt like it might unmake us both.
He leaned in, and suddenly the world shrank to the curve of his lips. “You know what you are to me?” he murmured, his voice a soft vibration against my skin. “You’re the first person who made me want to be seen. Not watched. Seen.”
My throat threatened to close, but I forced the words out. “You let me see you, too. That’s everything, Jace.”
He kissed me then, deliberate and precise like a signature. I pressed into that kiss, letting the slight tremor in his hands root me to the moment. When he broke away, he searched my eyes, not demanding but asking. I turned my wrist, palm up, offering the pale skin of my forearm. He cradled it in both hands, thumb resting over my pulse.
“Are you sure?” he asked, as if my heartbeat could speak for me.
“Absolutely,” I whispered.
His bite was paradoxical, clinical yet not cold, gentle yet irreversible. The shock of pain flared, then dissolved into a bond roaring to life.
If Reid’s bond had been wildfire, Jace’s was an ocean, freezing at first, then rising until I couldn’t tell where my thoughts ended and his began. In that tide, I felt his loyalty, hismeasured devotion, and a longing so raw it would have undone a lesser Alpha.
Now I carried two bonds, distinct but intertwined, like twin stars pulling me into a stronger orbit. I gasped, not from pain, but from the rush of something falling perfectly into place.
Before I could fully savor it, Theo flooded in. No hesitation, pure barely-restrained chaos. He hovered at my waist, fingers fluttering as if he feared breaking the moment but feared more being left out. His scent crackled with electric anticipation. “I’m gonna try not to make a joke,” he said, biting back a grin, “because…this is huge. You matter, a lot, and I don’t know how to say it without sounding like an idiot. Plus you already know I love you.”
I laughed, and for an instant his eyes softened. “You’re not an idiot,” I told him, pulling him in. “You’re brilliant, and you make everything lighter when it feels too heavy.”
He exhaled, then blurted, “Fuck, I love you,” and kissed me, greedy, unapologetic, tasting of energy drink and joy. I leaned into his hunger, let myself be wanted so openly that the bonds seemed to hum with approval. I offered him my left shoulder, and he flashed me a grin wide enough to show all his teeth. “I love you too,” I murmured as he hissed his way from my jaw to my shoulder.
His bite jolted me, fast and bright, and the bond surged in, not subtle at all but frantic with hope. I felt his fierce loyalty, yes, but also his terror of not being enough and his stubborn vow to be everything I needed. Three bonds now flowed through me, each vibrating in harmony and wild with possibility, blurring the edges of where I ended and they began. I didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ash came next, circling me like he was gathering courage to stand fully in daylight. When he knelt, it was abrupt and unashamed. His gaze met mine, solemn, steady, and for aheartbeat I saw the boy he had been before armor and distance hardened him.
“I don’t want to ruin this moment, but I want to claim you alone. I’m not a fan of having an audience.” The sincerity laced with fear in his voice was almost hidden by the growl that underscored his words.
I nodded, trying not to feel rejected myself. I understood what he was saying and I could respect it, but I’d said the order I wanted the bonds in out loud and I wouldn’t deviate from it just because Ash was uncomfortable. Still, his words stung.
“I’m not rejecting you, Quinn. I want you so bad I can taste it, but I don’t want it like this.” He stood and walked out and for a moment I felt even more rejected than before.
“Ash just needs a moment,” Malik said, his voice calm and even.
“Me too,” I said as I pushed to my feet and blindly made my way to my room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Kara
I fled to my room, closing the door behind me with shaking hands. My heart pounded against my ribs as I leaned against the solid wood, trying to process what had just happened. Reid had claimed me. Publicly. On a livestream watched by thousands. And the others—their protective rage, their collective possession, their unmistakable intent, had made their feelings equally clear.
The bond marks on my shoulders throbbed in harmony, Reid's freshly renewed on the left, Theo's still new on the right. Physical manifestations of connections I'd spent months fighting, only to surrender completely in the span of a few days.
I moved to my nest, because that's what it was, I could finally admit that to myself, and sank into the familiar comfort of Alpha-scented items I'd been collecting for weeks. My fingers traced the edge of Reid's hoodie, smoothed over Theo's gaming jersey, adjusted Jace's scarf that somehow always ended up perfectly positioned for scenting during sleep.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Kara?" Jace's quiet voice, barely audible through the door. "May I come in?"
I hesitated only briefly before answering. "Yes."
The door opened soundlessly, typical Jace, even his entrances were quiet, and he slipped inside, closing it behind him with the same care. His scent, ink and snow, washed over me, distinct from Reid's thunderstorms and Theo's electric green tea, yet equally comforting in its own way.
"You left," he observed, no judgment in his tone, just quiet understanding.
