Page 97 of Stream Heat
The next wave came, and I let it. It was different now, still hot, but not agony. More like rolling thunder than waves of lightning. I arched into it, sound slipping out of me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, but nobody even blinked.
“Don’t be,” Reid said, warm and sure. “It’s a chemical thing. No shame.”
Somewhere in the blur of hours, time thinned out. The waves kept coming, but we just… existed. I wanted more, I wanted them to be inside me, knotting me, one after the other, but somehow I managed not to beg for it like last time. Everything still hurt, was still driving me crazy, but having them there was better than not having them around. Even if it was torture for all of us.
They brought water, adjusted the nest, cracked jokes, discussed gaming and streaming and tournament schedules like nothing weird was happening. It normalized everything I’d spent a lifetime hiding and loathing. At some point, I caught myself watching them.
Pack.
The word meant something now. Five Alphas, none of them trying to own me, just making sure I had what I needed.
“What?” Theo caught me staring and grinned.
“Just thinking,” I said. It wasn’t a lie.
“Want to share?” Jace said.
“I thought admitting to heat would mean losing control of who I was. Losing me.” I gestured around at the nest, the circle of them. “But it doesn’t. I feel more like myself right now than I ever have.”
Reid squeezed my shoulder. “That’s what pack is supposed to do.”
“Heat isn’t the whole story,” Malik added. “Just one piece.”
Theo couldn’t let it pass. “Can we play cards, or is that too much for you right now?”
“Deal me in,” I said. “Why not?”
He dealt the cards, trash talk and all, and for once, my heat wasn’t a curse. It just was.
When it finally started to ebb, I was wrecked. Sprawled in the nest, barely coherent, but so much lighter inside. Reid held me, the others a warm wall around us.
“Thanks,” I whispered. “For seeing me. For staying.”
Reid kissed my hair, gentle and sure. “That’s what it means to be pack, Quinn. We see you. All of you.”
As I drifted off, surrounded by them, I realized something crucial: needing them didn’t make me weak. It made me stronger. Would I be strong enough one day to want more?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kara
The heat had broken at some point and the guys had all excused themselves so I wasn’t surprised when I woke up alone but I didn’t understand why my phone was buzzing like it was having a seizure. For a second I thought maybe something had gone catastrophically wrong, but as I dug in, it was more complicated than that.
A lot of the messages were what you’d expect, support from Omega streamers dealing with the same industry crap, viewers dropping thank-yous for being honest, other content creators rallying behind me. What I hadn’t expected, or maybe just hadn’t wanted to think about, was that Victoria would have a counterattack ready to go. There was a distinct flavor to the hate, it looked coordinated, and I was sure someone had spent all night making sure it did.
@AlphaGaming: Kara Quinn throws agent under bus to deflect from her own poor choices. Classic omega victim mentality.
@ProStreamNews: BREAKING: Sources close to Victoria Smith say Quinn’s accusations are "desperate deflection" from breach of contract.
@TradGaming: First she lies about her designation for years, now she’s destroying people’s careers with false accusations. Where does it end?
It was almost funny, if it hadn’t made my insides twist up. Each post sounded like it was copy-pasted from the same shared doc. Classic PR maneuver, paint me as vindictive and unreliable, muddy the waters as fast as possible. Victoria’s fingerprints all over it.
"Damage control in full swing," I muttered, scrolling past the parade of corporate-approved outrage.
Reid appeared in my doorway, cup of coffee in hand, looking for all the world like he hadn’t just woken up to find my reputation on fire. "What’s happening?" he asked.
