Page 62 of Stream Heat
Kara
The signs had all been there, lurking at the edge of my vision for days before I finally gave in and called it what it was: my next heat was on its way, whether I wanted it or not. I could feel the change clawing up my spine inch by inch, a fever that started in the background and turned up the dial so slowly I barely noticed until I was halfway to disaster.
This wasn’t the full-system meltdown that had tanked my career and made me a punchline on streaming forums everywhere. That had been a nuclear event, a haze of pheromones and frantic, embarrassing need, every ounce of dignity stripped away in front of thousands of live viewers. No, this was something else, the insidious kind of heat that bled under your skin and rewrote all your instincts before you even realized you were compromised.
My scent sensitivity had ratcheted up until I could pick out anyone in the house just by the notes of their shampoo or the way Reid’s coffee cut through the air three rooms away. I’d been jittery, impossible to keep still during long streams my leg going at warp speed under the desk, fingertips drumming on my thigh until I wanted to break a bone just to feel something else. Everycell in my body had itched to move, to nest, to lock myself somewhere dark and safe until it was over.
Legal suppressants were supposed to ease the worst of it, Dr. Patel’s words, not mine, but my body had learned long ago how to chew up and spit out pharmaceuticals. Eight years of illegal suppressants had turned by body into a minefield. I could sense my biology probing at the edges, looking for cracks, hunting for any hint of weakness like water working its way through concrete. The worst part? I knew the drugs might not be enough this time. There was no magic bullet for a system this jacked up.
“You’re fidgety,” Reid had called from his seat without even looking up from his controller. He didn’t have to; his Alpha instincts were always tuned, always scanning, even when he was pretending not to care. “More than usual.”
I forced myself not to flinch and shot him a look from our little semicircle of gaming chairs. If I hadn’t already been running a fever, I would’ve blushed. Him noticing meant I was slipping; I was doing a piss-poor job of holding my own. “I’m fine.”
But I knew he could smell the lie, almost literally. The way he inhaled, barely a twitch, but I saw it anyway, made my skin crawl. His pupils had flared, just a fraction, and I knew what it meant. He was locked in, and suddenly so were the other Alphas in the room. Theo froze mid-hand-move, eyes focused like he was waiting for a bomb to go off. Jace stopped tapping his tablet and looked at me over the edge, analyzing something I couldn’t see. Malik’s presence had thickened, all steady gravity dialed up so high it was hard to breathe. Ash, always rough around the edges, scowled, his jaw set so tight I wondered if it hurt.
The air got heavy. Electric. All five of them, all Alphas, and every one of them had just realized the Omega in their ranks was broadcasting distress signals whether I wanted to or not.
“It’s nothing,” I tried. The words felt hollow the instant I let them out. My body disagreed, there was a shiver I couldn’t swallow, a chill under my skin that screamed for blankets or something more than blankets, if I was honest. “Just withdrawal stuff. Normal.”
But none of us really believed that. This was biology clawing its way back, waking up after years of being drugged to sleep. A different animal altogether.
“Quinn.” Reid’s voice had dropped, and I wanted to throttle him for it. He wasn’t even trying to Alpha me, but there was something in the way he said my name that made it impossible for me to lie. I looked down so I didn’t have to meet his eyes. “Don’t lie. Not to us.”
The urge to run was so strong I nearly stood, but I held it together. Barely. “Fine. I think my heat’s coming. Dr. Patel said that could still happen on legal suppressants. My body’s chaos, so there’s no schedule. Could be tomorrow, could be a week, could be nothing.”
But I knew I wasn’t wrong, and if it hadn’t been for the team watching me with the intensity of a firing squad, I’d have admitted it out loud. All the signs were there: the way I couldn’t shut out noise or light or scent, the way my skin felt crawling and wrong in any fabric, the way I wanted to shut myself in a closet and not come out until I was normal again.
“When?” Malik, always calm, always three steps ahead, asked. He didn’t like uncertainty. He wanted a timeline.
I shrugged, casual, but it felt like glass grinding in my stomach. “I don’t know. Few days, maybe? The meds should keep it from being like last time.”
Ash was the first to move past it. Tactical, ruthless, exactly what made him an asset when things got ugly. “We’ll prep. Stock food, recalibrate temp, make a plan for streaming.”
I hated the knee-jerk reaction in me, the surge of defensive pride that’d never helped anything. “I don’t need special treatment.” It came out sharp, automatic. Like I was thirteen again, telling my father I didn’t need a babysitter for stupid biology.
All five of them just… looked at me. The same expression, five different faces.You’re not fooling anyone.It was actually sort of impressive, the way they could line up on this without even trying.
I couldn’t even argue. “I’m on the right meds now,” I muttered.
“And they might not work,” Reid reminded me, not letting up for a second. It was infuriating, and I almost respected him for it. “Dr. Patel said your system’s unstable.”
I wanted to scream, but what was the point? He was right. If suppressants worked, great, maybe we’d get through this week with dignity intact. If not, it was going to get ugly, and all the planning in the world wouldn’t stop it.
“Fine. Maybe some prep is smart.” It nearly choked me to admit it, but the second the words were out, I saw something shift in the room.
Relief, or maybe it was just less anxiety? I didn’t know.
Jace, already on his tablet, just nodded, businesslike. “We’ll build a buffer. I’ll prep backup content, and we can rotate streams so you can bail if needed.”
“I’ll handle management,” Malik said, eyes steady. “Let sponsors know, so no one panics if there’s a disruption.”
They were all talking around me, tactical from the second the problem got named. Not one of them suggested tossing me out, isolating me, treating me like a liability. Just… fixing it, as if Omega heat was one more problem to solve.
“What about you guys?” The words came out before I could stop them. I wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or genuine concern,but the thought of five Alphas and me locked up together during heat felt like a recipe for disaster. “Five Alphas plus one Omega in heat? Come on. That isn’t safe.”
The quick sideways glances said more than words, like they’d already talked this over when I wasn’t in the room. Reid answered, voice unshakable. “We’ve made plans. We can handle it.”
I couldn’t help being skeptical. “Alpha biology isn’t famous for self-control.”
