The space was big. Open and clean, but not sterile. It was like a kitchen straight from one of my Pinterest boards, from thelong counters, to the massive industrial fridges, to a stove that looked like it could cook for an army.
There were a couple of omegas moving around, one pouring coffee, another stacking plates, someone else flipping something that smelled way too good. My stomach rumbled.
But the more I noticed, the more something in my chest tightened.
I nodded, like it didn’t matter. Like I hadn’t just had something quietly flipped upside down.
Back home, omegas didn’t move like this around each other. We weren’t cruel… but we weren’t close either. You learned to watch your back, even with people who smelled like you. Too much softness… too much trust, it got you burned. So everyone kept a little distance.
Here, it felt like they were friends…
One omega bumped another with his shoulder and stole his mug. The other just laughed and grabbed a clean one. There was no tension. No edge. No checking to see who was watching.
I didn’t even realize I’d stopped walking until Ember slowed and glanced back at me.
“They don’t act like this back home,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her mouth tilted, not quite a smile. “Mmmm.”
That was it. No lecture. No explanation.
Just confirmation.
I looked around again, really looked this time. The way the omegas held their space. The way no one talked over them. The way they weren’t shrinking, weren’t careful, weren’t acting like the room belonged to someone else.
It hit me then… slow and uncomfortable.
This wasn’t chaos.
This was safety.
And somehow, that scared me more than the stares ever had.
Ember kept going like my world hadn’t been rocked…and seeing as I’d been kidnapped not 24 hours ago… this shouldn’t have felt so… I didn’t even have a word for it… but world rocking felt right.
She pointed at a tall cabinet. “Food’s fair game. Just don’t touch the labeled shelves on the left. Those are for heats and medical stuff.”
“Got it.”
“And if you need something?” She shrugged. “Ask. Worst they’ll say is no.”
That also felt new.
We kept moving, away from the kitchen and into another stretch of the building that felt more private. Not quieter exactly—there was still noise—but the sounds changed. Less laughter. More low voices. A TV murmured somewhere behind a closed door. Footsteps passed without stopping.
One guy leaned against the wall scrolling his phone. Another walked past with a toolbox tucked under his arm. Normal stuff. Ordinary, almost.
One of them glanced at me, then at the cut hanging off my shoulders, and paused mid-step.
Not angry. Not hostile.
Just… checking.
His eyes flicked to Ember. Then back to me. He gave a short nod and went right back to what he was doing like that was the end of it.
“What was that about?” I asked under my breath.
Ember didn’t slow. “He was checking who you’re with.”
