Page 33 of Stream Heat
Kara
Three days had passed, and I still hadn’t gotten my feet under me. Not really. The coffee was better here, but the air had been thick enough to chew through.
First thing had always been my meds. I fumbled the pill bottle, popped my prescribed suppressant, and washed it down with water that had warmed on the bedside table all night. Dr. Patel’s legal-grade stuff was practically a joke compared to the horse pills I’d been on before, but lately those were considered “unsafe and unsustainable.” That was the fancy medical speak. What it meant was that my Omega reactions were barely contained. I was stuck coasting in a permanent state of heightened awareness, wired, exhausted, rubbing my nerves raw.
It had been even worse because this house was soaked in Alpha pheromones, like someone had sprayed them on the fucking walls.
A soft knock sounded at my door. I jumped. “Quinn? You up?” Theo’s voice was dialed down for once, none of his usual showy volume.
“Unfortunately,” I managed. I yanked a hoodie over my sleep shirt to look at least halfway alive. “What’s up?”
“Malik’s making breakfast before his stream. Thought you might want some.”
My stomach tightened. Three days on suppressants and I was starving. “Give me five minutes.”
Theo’s footsteps echoed down the hall, and I forced myself vertical, stumbling to the bathroom. The mirror was cruel but honest, still pale, still hollow-eyed, but no longer haunted. Kinda looked like progress, if I squinted.
I’d have stayed under the hot spray forever but settled for keeping it to a few minutes. The scent of coffee, real coffee, not the dehydrated stuff I’d survived on last year, lured me toward the kitchen. Malik’s low, soothing voice had drifted from the sunroom, his “meditation space,” apparently, muffled by a half-open door.
“…breathe in calm, breathe out tension,” I heard, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d have said he actually meant it. “Feel the energy centering in your core…”
I paused, not really wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but curiosity overrode caution. Malik sat cross-legged on a cushion, totally Zen, facing a pro camera setup. The room was filled with plants, everything bathed in soft natural light, the paint probably called “Serenity” or something ridiculous. If my old gaming den had been a chaos demon, this was its exorcism.
He hadn’t seen me, too focused on his followers. “Today we’re focusing on acceptance,” he said. “Accepting change, accepting challenge, accepting ourselves…”
That was my cue to back away before I ruined his inner peace. The kitchen was deserted when I finally got there. It was just me, a warming lid over a plate, and a note in handwriting so neat it almost stung.
Eat something before your meds.
-M
It was scrambled eggs, which were perfectly fluffy, not dry, with avocado toast, and a side of fresh berries. I blinked fast so I didn’t start crying over breakfast like some loser on daytime TV.
I was halfway through when Jace materialized, silent and expressionless, carrying a steaming mug.
“Coffee?” He set it down next to me, didn’t even wait for a reply.
“Thanks,” I said, caught off guard by the thoughtfulness. “You’re up early.”
He shrugged and poured himself a cup from a machine that looked like it could float a small spaceship. “Never really sleep. Editing.”
“At,” I glanced at my phone, “six-thirty in the morning?”
“Best time. House is quiet.” He leaned on the counter, eyes dark and unreadable over the coffee rim. “You look better.”
“Low bar,” I muttered, not meaning for it to come out bitter. It just did. “What are you editing at this hour?”
“ASMR stuff. Keyboard, page turning, chill game walkthroughs.”
I couldn’t help blinking. “That’s… surprising. Not what I expected from Pack Wrecked.”
He almost smiled. “We contain multitudes.”
Before I could respond, I heard Malik wrap up his meditation stream. “…same time tomorrow, mindful ones. Peace and clarity to you all.”
“He does that every morning?” I gestured vaguely in the sunroom’s direction.
Jace nodded. “Six sharp. Meditation, mindfulness. He’s got a whole channel for it.”
