Page 62 of Into the Fire: After
I swallowed, looking down at my half-finished drink. My stomach turned over, and not from the excess sugar.
“Yeah,” I responded quietly before taking an obscene gulp of my drink. My fingers drummed lightly on the table. “I was Unregistered for a decade.”
Sheyna’s eyes lit with excitement. “So you know how to get blockers and stuff without a Census Number, right?”
Yes, I’d taken scent blockers and instinct dampeners since I presented, heat control when my first cycle hit at nineteen. But Gran had procured my black market meds, then Brea after her.
As much as I prided myself on my independence, turned out…maybe I wasn’t so independent after all.
My stomach clenched, but not with nerves. An ember of rage glimmered and grew. Fuck the Census. Fuck the assholes who upheld it.
And, most of all, fuck the fear that had crippled me these last months. Fuck making myself small. Fuck waiting around for someone to come protect me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m in.”
My turn to do the protecting.
Hello,thankyouforcalling the congressional office of Corinth Wainwright. How may I help you?
"Hi, my name is Taryn Lennox, and I’m a constituent living in Farendale. I’m calling to urge the congressman to voteYESon HB25-17 to de-regulate the Omega Census."
Okay, great, I’ve got your comment down and will pass it on to the congressman. Have a great day.
"Thank you."
Ibreezedintotheapartment after my coffee date riding the high of rebellion. Brea and Lin chopped veggies side by side at the kitchen island. Since we’d arrived, they’d cooked just about every meal together. Brea had never been particularly interested in the kitchen, but Lin loved teaching her different dishes, and it was something special the two of them did together. It was sweet, and I got butterflies just watching them work together.
And maybe just a handful of butterflies over my newfound mission.
Lin’s eyes flicked to the oven clock. “Fifty-six minutes. Not too bad.”
Less than an hour I’d managed to socialize without a packmate within smelling distance.
Whoop-de-do.
As much as the Human Taryn was ready to stick it to the man and give her anxiety the middle finger, Omega Taryn was still a whiny bitch who’d not yet gone more than seventy-four minutes without needing to scent a packmate.
I rolled my eyes and hopped onto a barstool. “Alert the presses, this is a marvel you have to see to believe!”
He set down his knife and dried his hands on the towel hanging over his shoulder. Probing eyes locked on me as he rounded the counter. “You,” he said as he cupped my cheek, “are not allowed to diminish your accomplishments.”
His gentle touch alone may have been enough to send me sobbing, but his authoritative tone—equally alluring and commanding—assured me I wasn’t fragile or weak.
Which, sometimes, was a nice reminder.
“Hmmmm,” I hummed, pretending to dive deep into thought. “Am I allowed todiscountmy accomplishments?” I asked. “You know, like, ‘Survive an hour without your pack, get half the pride’ type deal?”
I sent a teeny ray of warmth down the bond toward Lin to underscore the joke, but his own face didn’t shift.
“No, ma’am,” he said, serious as ever. “Full pride or none at all.And”—He put a silencing finger over my lips—“none at allisn’t actually allowed. So. Full pride only.”
I sighed and turned back toward the counter. “So retail simple.”
“I’m fine with that.” He leaned in to place a lingering kiss at my temple before rejoining Brea at the chopping station. She’d been silent the whole time, but peace rolled off her like mist off a lake.
Their meal prepping filled the kitchen with homey noises and smells. Honey and onion and garlic and sesame. Salmon and rice. Miso and sugar.
Honestly, what was hotter than one of your mates chopping green onion with his sleeves rolled up, and your other mate sizzling garlic and butter on the stove?
