Such anormalthing.
But in Ruthless Academy, where pack dynamics are enforced through violence and Omegas are taught their place from the moment they arrive, it feels revolutionary.
"I don't think it'll be temporary," Blaze finally says.
The words are quiet.
Serious.
Completely at odds with the teasing humor he's been deploying since we met.
I stop walking.
He stops too, turning to face me with an expression I can't quite read.
"What do you mean?"
"Sage." He says the name like it explains everything. "He wouldn't knot with any Omega he doesn't see a future with. That's not who he is. He's been writing to you for five years, Seraphine. Five years of letters and hope and the belief that somewhere out there, someone understood him."
My throat tightens.
"And then he found you." Blaze's golden eyes are soft now, gentle in a way that doesn't match his fire-touched appearance. "Found out you were real. Found out you were here, in the same nightmare, fighting the same battles. And he didn't just kiss you or fuck you—hebondedyou. Permanently. Irreversibly."
The words settle into my chest like stones.
Permanently.
Irreversibly.
"He doesn't do that lightly," Blaze continues. "None of us do. Bonding is... it'severything. It's tying your soul to another person's and trusting them not to destroy you with the access you've given them. Sage gave you that. Gaveusthat, through him. And I don't think any of us are going to be able to let go easily."
I stare up at him.
My brain is doing that thing it does when it can't process information—skipping, stuttering, looping back to the beginning like a record with a scratch.
They want to keep me.
Not temporarily.
Really, actually want to keep me.
"But I'm crazy," I hear myself say. "You don't want a crazy Omega. No one wants a crazy Omega. That's literally why I've been packless for three years—because everyone takes one look at my file and runs the other direction."
Blaze looks at me.
Reallylooks.
Like he's seeing past the surface, past the armor, past all the walls I've built to keep people at a safe distance.
Then he offers his hand.
Palm up.
Open.
Vulnerable.
"We're all a little fucked up in the head," he says quietly. "Sage has his letters and his obsessive hope. Jett has his... detachment. His inability to connect with anything that isn't violence or strategy. Kai has—" He pauses, something flickering across his face. "Kai has a lot. More than he lets anyone see. And me? I set fires. Literally and metaphorically. Can't stop myself. The chaos is the only thing that makes me feel alive."
