Page 93 of Stream Heat
"See?" Reid said, voice quieter now, almost gentle. "This is how change happens. One truth at a time."
"I didn’t expect this," I admitted, scrolling further. "I thought there’d be more backlash. Like… a lot more."
"Oh, there’s plenty of that," Theo chimed in, totally undaunted. "But the haters are getting ratio’d into the next universe. The support is drowning them out."
"The Omega streaming community has mobilized," Jace added, now perched on the edge of the desk. "They’re systematically countering every negative comment with data and personal stories about designation discrimination and suppressant abuse."
Malik just checked his phone. "Our lawyers are handling the actual threats. Victoria’s cease and desist arrived an hour ago, but Steve’s already working up a response." Practical, to the point.
I nodded, not really trusting myself to say much more. I’d always thought this moment would ruin me, that letting everyone know my designation, all my choices, all my mistakes, would burn down everything I’d built.
But it didn’t feel like ruin at all. It felt more like a beginning. Something raw and real enough to be worth building on.
"I need a nap," I muttered, shaking my head as the messages just kept coming. "And then food. And maybe destroying some noobs in Apex till I feel normal again."
"On it," said Theo, immediately making for the door. "I’ll order from that Thai place you like."
Ash was right behind him, already prepping his tablet. "I’ll set up the tournament practice lobby for later."
Malik gave me a look, half amusement, half exasperation. "Tea first," he suggested as he handed me the mug he’d been patiently holding. "Something to help your nervous system recover."
I nodded my thanks and took a sip of the warm amber liquid and immediately felt a little better.
Jace didn’t say anything, just started adjusting the lighting in my room, the exact levels he’d worked out would help an Omega, or at least this Omega, recover after a high-stress event.
One by one, they filtered out, doing what needed to be done but also giving me space. All except Reid, who hung back in the doorway.
"Proud of you," he said. Just that. No elaborate speech, no melodrama.
It kind of wrecked me, how much that meant. My voice came out rougher than I liked. "For what? Lying for years before finally telling the truth?"
"For having the courage to be vulnerable," he said, holding my gaze. "For using your platform to help people who have nobody. For trusting us enough to make us part of your story." His eyes didn’t waver, not even a blink. "For being you, Quinn. All of you."
When he was gone, I crawled into my nest and let the familiar scents of all five Alphas settle around me. The pack bonds thrummed, stronger than ever now that everything was on the table. Now that I wasn’t hiding from them, or from myself.
My phone was still going crazy, but I shoved it aside. I’d given them my truth; I didn’t owe anyone my time tonight.
There’d be challenges tomorrow. Backlash, Victoria’s inevitable lawsuits, tournaments trying to find excuses to retroactively disqualify me. The world wasn’t going to change overnight.
But for the first time since my heat had outed me on a livestream, I wasn’t facing it alone or pretending I was someone else. I was going forward as my whole self. Omega designation, sharp tongue, competitive skills, and the pack who refused to let me fall.
Not despite what I was, but because of it. Not weaker for needing others, but stronger because I let them in. I just hoped that didn’t mean they suffered because of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kara
The stress of public exposure hit me like a freight train, straight to the nervous system, primal and hard. I jolted awake sticky with sweat, skin glued to the sheets like shrink-wrap. The ache started low in my gut, a slow burn radiating outward until every nerve was raw and itching for relief. My heart thrashed against my ribs, each pulse a fresh burst of heat, a warning I recognized too well.
Not already. Not this soon.
It hadn’t even been two weeks since my heat. Dr. Patel had tried to warn me that stress could fuck up my cycle, make everything unpredictable, but I hadn’t expected it to be so fast to act. The emotional whiplash of outing myself so publicly wasn’t just in my head, it had tripped something in my body too. My system, barely stabilized after being off suppressants, just couldn’t handle the pressure.
I tried to slow my breathing, force my body back into line. Malik’s techniques, all that meditation and grounding, except my body had its own agenda now. Years of forced suppression gone, and suddenly my hindbrain was dialed in to every Alphascent in my space. Five distinct notes and I could name them all if I wanted. Mine, every one of them.
Not now. Not again.
I hauled myself upright, ignoring the dizzy spell that threatened to send me sprawling. The last heat had been a disaster. Five Alphas, me shamelessly begging for anything that would make it stop, even just touch, even if it hurt. They’d all refused, somehow, too noble for their own good, and instead brought blankets, pain meds, straws for water. I’d driven them out eventually, choosing isolation over the humiliation of wanting what I shouldn’t.
