Page 27 of Stream Heat
"Main wing, opposite side. Theo and Jace share a wall, which is a constant source of conflict since Jace edits at 3 AM and Theo streams until dawn sometimes. Malik's at the end of the hall since he needs the most soundproofing for his meditation content. Ash has the basement setup for his hardware builds."
"And you?"
"Master suite, second floor." He smiled slightly. "Pack leader privileges."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course. The Alpha gets the penthouse."
"House Wrecked was my idea," he said simply. "My investment initially. The others joined later."
That was news to me. I'd always assumed they'd formed as a group.
"So this is your pack, then. Your... territory." The words felt strange in my mouth.
"It's a content house," he corrected. "A business arrangement, just like what you and I agreed to."
He was throwing my own words back at me, and I deserved it. Still, something about his tone suggested he didn't entirely believe that himself.
"Right," I said, turning back to the window. "Business arrangement."
A silence stretched between us, filled with unspoken complexities neither of us was ready to address.
"I'll let you get settled," he said finally. "Dinner's at seven, if you're feeling up to joining us. Otherwise, someone can bring a tray."
"I'm not an invalid," I snapped, more harshly than intended.
"Never said you were." He pushed off from the doorframe. "But you are recovering from a major medical event, so maybe ease up on the defensive spikes."
He left before I could respond, closing the door softly behind him.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted from the simple act of walking through the house and having one conversation. Dr. Patel was right, I was in no condition to jump back into streaming.
My phone sat on the nightstand, fully charged. I picked it up with trembling hands, bracing myself for the digital carnage awaiting me.
Hundreds of notifications. Thousands of mentions. DMs from fellow streamers ranging from supportive to ghoulishly curious. Emails from sponsors, some terminating contracts, others "pausing our partnership to reassess alignment."
The platform had sent a formal notice of content review, citing designation disclosure violations. My account wasn't suspended, but it was demonetized pending investigation.
Victoria had called seventeen times and left increasingly desperate voicemails, the last one openly threatening to "release everything" if I didn't call her back immediately.
I set the phone down, too overwhelmed to process it all. My career was in shambles, my body was betraying me with every breath, and I was trapped in a house saturated with Alpha pheromones that made my skin feel too tight and my core ache with needs I refused to acknowledge.
A soft knock interrupted my spiral. "Quinn?" Jace's quiet voice came through the door. "I brought your medication. Dr.Patel said you might need it earlier than scheduled if symptoms flared."
I crossed to the door and opened it, finding him standing with a glass of water and a small pill in his palm.
"Thanks," I said, taking both from him. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt of awareness shot through me, making me nearly drop the glass.
If Jace noticed my reaction, he didn't show it. "The house scents are probably overwhelming. This should help dampen your sensitivity a bit."
I swallowed the pill gratefully. "Is it that obvious?"
"To someone who's seen it before, yes." His eyes met mine briefly before sliding away. "My sister went through something similar."
"The one who was on military suppressants?"
He nodded. "She was in the service. Special ops. They put all Omegas on blockers for 'operational security.'" His normally expressionless face hardened. "Nearly killed her when she came home and tried to detox."
"But she recovered?" I couldn't keep the desperate hope from my voice.
