Page 35 of The Boss Omega
Jeremy cuts his eyes toward his son, giving him aget your shit togetherlook.
Silas doesn’t stop, though. The growl just settles deeper in his chest. I have no idea if he’s upset because another pack touched me,or because they didn’t touch me enough. Either way the sound sends a shiver through me that I'm blaming entirely on the air conditioning.
I take a breath. Then another. Then a third before I can continue.
“When they found their omega,” I say carefully, “they obviously couldn’t assist me anymore.”
Jeremy nods once. “Have you had a heat since then?”
"One. I tried to do it on my own."
"And how did that go?" Jeremy pushes.
I look at my hands. "It lasted seven days."
Jeremy's expression doesn't change. "Seven days is a long heat."
"They're always long," I say. "Five days minimum. Usually closer to eight or nine. Even when—" I stop. Start again. "Even when I had help."
"Tell me about the help you had."
"A friend's pack. Three alphas." I keep my eyes on my hands. "They were good to me. But they had jobs. They couldn't always be there. So they'd come when they could and I'd manage the rest alone."
"And the pain during those heats?"
I almost laugh. "Not as bad as the last one, but—” I swallow a lump that’s lodged in my throat.
“There's no managing it. Even with help. I've tried every medication available. Prescription and over the counter. Heating pads. Ice. Everything the internet suggested." I shake my head. "Nothing touches it. The cramps come in waves and when they're bad, they take your vision. I've passed out from them before."
"Passed out," Silas repeats. Completely flat. I can feel the effort it's costing him.
"Once. During an earlier heat. And when I came to, it was still happening." I pause. "Even with the pack helping, my omega… She never felt settled after. She'd cry for days once the heat broke."
The room is very quiet.
"The last heat," Jeremy says carefully. "Walk me through it."
I take a breath. "I thought I could do it. I'd done it partially alone before and survived. I thought if I just pushed through—” I stop.
"The cramping started before it even properly began. By the end of day one I couldn't get up. By day two I'd stopped drinking water. I knew I wasn't drinking enough, at least at first. I just couldn't make my body do anything except get through the next cramp. Later, I don’t think I knew anything."
Graham makes a sound beside me that isn't a word.
"I rolled to the edge of my nest on day seven and called 911 from my watch. I couldn't stand. I couldn't walk. I rolled." I say it flatly because that's the only way I can say it. "Four days in the hospital."
"And after?" Jeremy asks.
"Three weeks before I could get out of bed to use the bathroom without help. Cammie stayed with me." I glance at my hands. "I couldn't work out for months. Couldn't lift anything. My body hurt everywhere, all the time. It took a long time to feel like myself again."
Graham's hand finds mine.
“The good news is, I only do this every six to eight months. I’m not regular like most omegas.” I say it like it’s a consolation prize. It’s not.
The room is very quiet for a moment.
"Cammie said you nearly died," Graham says finally. His voice is not quite steady. He takes my hand and presses his lips to it and doesn't lift them for a long moment.
I don't answer. Because Cammie is right. And saying so out loud in front of my mates feels like a threat. Like they’ll have to deal with my crazy body for the rest of their lives. Who would willingly sign up for that?
