Page 81 of Stream Heat
I made choices I'm not proud of. Choices that have damaged my health permanently. But I won't apologize for fighting to be seen as more than my designation in an industry that refused to let me exist otherwise.
The suppressants didn't enhance my performance, they actually hindered it. Ask any medical professional. I won those tournaments despite the chemicals in my system, not because of them.
I'm not asking for sympathy or forgiveness. I'm just asking for the full truth to be heard, not just the parts that make for better clickbait.
I looked to Reid. "Is it enough?"
He met my eyes, unblinking. "If you don’t let yourself get boxed into Stella’s terms, yeah. It’s more than enough. She wants this to be about your failures. We make it about the system."
He was right. My story was just one ugly example. There would be others, probably hundreds of them. If I could withstand the fallout, maybe I could do more than just save myself.
I deleted the draft. Started over.
This isn’t just my story. It’s about Nexus Management, and the suppressants pipeline. About Victoria Smith, and her methods. About an industry that uses kids, chews them up, and spits out the ones who don’t fit the label.
I’d waited my whole life to be honest.
Jace warned me, "Victoria will come at you with everything she has."
I shook my head. "Let her."
The next ping was a DM, straight from Callie Cross, plus three other top Omega streamers, all jammed into a new group chat: Operation Designation Liberation.
We’re with you, Quinn. All of us. Ready when you are to coordinate the biggest designation discrimination expose this industry has ever seen. They wanted to make an example of you? Let’s show them what happens when Omegas fight back TOGETHER.
I showed the pack. I don’t know what I expected, but I got wall-to-wall support: teeth, claws, and strategic brains sharp as razors.
Reid was almost gentle when he said, "See? Never alone. Not really."
For the first time since the notifications started, I let myself believe it. Maybe not just for me. For everyone who’d ever been told to hide, or shrink, or lie their way into relevance.
Stella wanted to break me with my own truth? She didn’t realize she’d just set me free.
The cursor blinked. So did I, and started typing. This wasn’t going to be a defense. It was going to be a revolution. If they wanted a dramatic example, I’d give them one.
The pack, rock solid around me, kept me grounded. Five Alphas, one ruined, rebuilt Omega, and a whole crowd of people waiting for someone to go first.
This time, it was me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kara
The sound that woke me was the wild staccato of fingers on keys, a frenetic, focused rhythm that reminded me of a war drum. I cracked an eye to witness Ash, massive and motionless at the foot of my bed, somehow wedged into a desk chair clearly borrowed from somewhere else in the house. The laptop’s glow cast blue shadows across the sharp ledges of his face, making the whole scene look almost cinematic.
"You watching me sleep?" My voice rasped out, gravel rough from the emotional thrashing of yesterday. “That’s creepy, even for an Alpha.”
He didn’t flinch or look up. “Your medical records are being scrubbed from major platforms. I’m writing code to automate DMCA takedowns.”
The words detonated a flood of memory: Stella’s leak, the ensuing mob, the way the pack had closed ranks around me instantly. I shoved myself upright, noticing I was still fully dressed from the previous night. I must have just folded at some point and blacked out.
“What time is it?”
“Four seventeen A.M.,” Ash replied, fingers still flying. “You’ve been out for about three hours.”
“And you’ve been what, standing guard while coding?”
Now, finally, he glanced up. The gray of his eyes was muted in the screen glow, unreadable. “Someone needed to monitor your condition. Dr. Patel said stress could trigger withdrawal symptoms or unscheduled heats.”
