We work quietly after that, each of us lost in our own heads. Each of us thinking about our surprising, brilliant, beautiful omega. And by the time we’re finished with the nest, I can see the pride and hope on each of my packmates’ faces.
The room is cozy. It’s filled with decadent fabrics, a wall of velvet curtains, and the fairy lights we’ve strung up in strategic spots catch enough on the glossy paint of the flowers that they pop on the more matte finish of the rest of the wall. The plush shag carpet is soft under our feet, and the massive bed in the center of the room is piled high with pillows and blankets. I’m not an omega, but even I want to burrow under them and never leave.
It’s perfect. Or it will be, when her delicious scent has seeped into all the blankets and the walls and everything smells of her. Soon, we’ll ask her to move in. We’ll mark her, claim her, and make her ours forever. We’ll give Liv whatever she wants, because she’s become the center of our pack. Hell, even before Hayes and I met her, she was interwoven in the fabric of our family. Liam has pined for her for years. Sawyer always thought she was cute but off-limits. She was always top of mind. We justdidn’t realize.
“Think she’ll like it?” Hayes asks.
I don’t even hesitate. “Of course. We did all of this with her in mind. She’ll love it.”
And if, for some reason, she doesn’t? Well, we’ll paint over the walls and try again. Because she’s worth the effort. Our omega. She’s worth everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
OLIVIA
Being an adult in your parents’ home is weird. You’re fully in charge of your destiny, and yet, they still feel the need to control. Or, at least, my mother does. I’ve been successfully avoiding her for weeks, but tonight, I barely make it out of my room before she corners me.
“Where are you going?” she demands.
My hackles rise. Why does she care? “Out with friends.” The lie almost sounds convincing.
She lifts a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Friends?”
I sigh, not in the mood to play these games with her. And maybe the pack is rubbing off on me because, for once, I don’t sit back and take it. “Yes, Mother. Hard as it is to believe, I do have friends.”
“Hmm.” She tips her chin. “What are you and you’re...friendsdoing?” She says the word in such a way that I’m certain she can’t quite believe people would willingly hang out with me.
Frowning, I rear back. “Is this an interrogation?”
She titters. “Don’t be silly. A mother can simply care, can’t she?”
You haven’t before. Instead, I say, “We’re going to hang out, and I’m going to be late.” I sidestep her, but she catches my arm, spinning me around.
“You’re in my house,” she says, voice low. “Do not disrespect me.”
“Yes, Mother.”Just play along and appease her so you can leave, I remind myself.
Her eyes narrow, nails digging into my skin hard enough that I wince. “Carrie says you’ve been avoiding her calls.”
“Oh.” I glance away. I should have seen this coming, but I’ve been too caught up in the guys. “Work has been busy.”
“Clearly not busy enough if you can go gallivanting off, doing god knows what.” She steps closer, grip tightening. “You will not embarrass this family, understood?”
What exactly would I do to embarrass the family? Be myself? Heaven forbid. There are going to be bruises on my bicep if she doesn’t let up. I tug on my arm. “You’re hurting me.”
She huffs. “Don’t be dramatic.” Yet she releases me. “Did I make myself clear? Your actions define our family. You continuing to be single, at your advanced age?—”
“Advanced age? I’m twenty-seven.”
“Exactly,” she continues, missing my point. “It’s a tragedy, really, Olivia. You should see the looks the other mothers at the Omega Social Club give me.” Her features harden, and that cutting gaze slices to me. “Call Carrie back, or I will, and you didn’t like the last pack I picked, remember?”
Trust me, I remember. Biting my tongue and the harsh words I wish I had the guts to spew, I simply nod and slip by her. “I’m going to be late.”
Nigel called in sick today, but I don’t mind driving myself. After that encounter, I need some alone time. I slide into myBMW and turn it on, my hands find the steering wheel, but I hesitate. Mother won’t let up until I give a little. As much as it kills me, I pull up the missed call list and dial Carrie’s number.
She picks almost right away, her tone pure condescension wrapped in false niceties. “Hello, dear! Goodness, you’re a difficult omega to get a hold of.”
“Hi, Carrie.” I infuse as much fake cheer as I can. This phone call is going to be like walking through hell. “So sorry for all the missed calls.”
