Page 32 of The Bright Omega

She will absolutely hate that. She'll have something sharp and funny to say, and she'll say it from a hospital bed with an IV in her hand and she won't be wrong. And god, I want to hear it. I want to be in the room when she says it. I want to be the one she looks at when she does.

That's the thing underneath all of it. She's the first person, not just the first omega, the first person, who has made me immediately feel like I could exist without apology. Like I didn't have to calculate every word before I said it. Even with Leith, it took time. But one night with Cammie and I felt it. The ease of her. The way she looked at me like I was exactly enough.

I want that back. I want it in a way that has nothing to do with biology and everything to do with who she is. And I'm terrified I'm not going to get to have it.

I look down at her hand in mine. The bright chipped polish. The thin silver ring.

I don't hear Leith move but I feel him. His body is solid and warm behind me, one hand coming down on my shoulder. Not squeezing. Just there.

I exhale.

"We'll figure this out," he says.

seventeen

Leith

Isit in the chair by the window with my hands loose on my knees and my eyes on Cammie and my jaw set so hard it aches.

The Overstreets. I'd known the name the second my contact said it. I met them on the same day I last saw her. The appointment had been straightforward on paper. Restraining order against a female alpha. Brief relationship, nothing serious according to the pack. She disagreed. She’d taken a particular interest in their beta. The judge granted them a restraining order. One hundred feet minimum. Standard enough. I've handled dozens of cases like it.

Except the beta. He hadn't been frightened. Hadn't even been angry. He'd sat across the table with his hands folded, talking about a woman allegedly terrorizing his pack, and he'd looked pleased. Subtle enough that most people would have missed it.

I'm not most people. I turned them down. Told Beck on the drive home that something was off. He shrugged, trusted my read, and let it go. I was right about them being shady. I was wrong to think that was the end of it.

There’d been multiple witnesses. The stalker came out of nowhere, crossed the distance in seconds, shoved Cammie hard into traffic. None of the Overstreet pack moved. Not one. Two alphas and a beta watching an omega go down and not one of them took a single fucking step.

I breathe through it. If I'd taken that job. If one of my crew had been on that detail. Or me, if I'd been there myself, this doesn't happen. My crew keeps people safe. That's not a boast.

I walked away and now Cammie is in that bed. I don't sit in it long. Guilt is just anger with nowhere to go. I know where I want this anger to go.

The alpha is in the wind. Gone before the first unit arrived. No location yet. My contact is looking. I'll be looking too through channels the department can't officially use. I'll find her first. That's not arrogance. It’s a promise. But finding her takes time.

In the meantime, Cammie doesn't know she might still be in danger. When she wakes up and I tell her, she's going to have opinions about what comes next. I already know she won't want a guard. She's not built for that. She’s independent, sharp, the kind of woman who steps toward a problem rather than away from it.

I would do it myself. I’d keep her safe. Whether she'd want that from me specifically is a different question. I could assign someone she'd never notice. There are a few on my team who are good enough at their jobs for that. But she's not a client, she’s Cammie. And doing it without telling her feels wrong.

Finn’s still curled toward her like there’s a string pulling them together, her hand held carefully in both of his. She'd pulled him in and kissed him before we'd even left her apartment that morning. Laughed with him, easy and open. Finn is kind. Patient. Soft in ways I've never managed and probably never will.

I know what I am. It's not a problem I lose sleep over. I'm useful in certain situations. Less useful in others. An omega waking up from emergency surgery will need soft. That’s not me.

And then there's Beck. Her scent match. I saw it on his face when I walked in. Knew something permanent had shifted. She'll feel that pull the second she opens her eyes. Biology doesn't ask permission.

What does that leave for the rest of us?

Piers hasn't arrived. He might not be a match. He might decide this isn't what he built the pack for. I'll deal with that when it happens. Right now there's one thing I can focus on. I need to keep her safe.

When the door opens, I'm on my feet before I've decided to move, a growl already building in my chest at the unknown woman pushing through. And then my eyes find the men behind her and I stop.

Silas. My cousin fills the doorway. He's the only person I've ever stood next to who makes me feel average-sized, which I find both reassuring and irritating depending on the day. Behind him are his packmates, Graham and Saint.

The woman already halfway across the room, tears tracking silently down her face, has to be Lark. I've never met her. I’m always working when the family gets together. But I know Silas's scent on her and I know from that night that she and Cammie are best friends.

I let the growl go. "Sorry," I say. "My alpha."

Lark pauses long enough to look at me. Her golden eyes are steady. "It's okay," she says. Like she means it. Then she's moving again, straight to Cammie's bedside.

"Lark." Finn is already on his feet. "Thank you for coming."