Her brows knot in the middle, like she’s trying to work out where the trap is in his words, but I know Clay, he’s just concerned and sincere. It’s the first hint that maybe there’s something not quite right behind her eyes, that she’s not the happy, flirty Omega we’ve been chatting to for the last half hour. Being with us would help, that’s for sure. This pack is pretty much an open book; lies have no place in pack life.
“I…” She swallows loudly enough for us to hear, a muscle in her jaw jumping, and I don’t know if she's fighting to steel her nerves, or keep her mouth shut, “I was sold by my dad. He was… Tired of me.”
Growls echo around the table as our Omega ducks her head submissively with a sharp whine that pierces my heart. With such powerful reactions as a Beta, I dread what the Alphas are feeling, but it only cements in my mind that she’s really ours. Opening my mouth to comfort her, I’m cut off by the speakers crackling to life and the guards starting to approach the tables, picking up the scattered Omegas to go back to the stage.Had we truly spent only thirty minutes with this woman?No, we have to have her, have to give her time to bloom into the sassy woman she really is, to take that fear and turn it to trust and lo—Love. I’ve met the woman once, and I’m already head over heels for her. Fury gives me a sympathetic smile, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. It might be biology, maybe fate, but we need to take her home.
As the guard near our table moves, her scent starts to sour like rotten fruit and ethanol. It’s overpowering with her scent glands right in my face. Lucas has a face of pure, crinkled disgust, trying to subtly cover his nose whilst the rest of us damthe tides of our anger at her upset. Fury reaches across the table, as does Atlas, offering soft comfort and murmuring sweet nothings about finding her later and how she’ll be safe when we get home. To my shock, the heavy whiskey scent that surrounds Fury deepens for a moment, flushing the air. Then a rumble starts up. Rusty, like an old engine, we all hold our breaths as our Cardinal, for the first time in years since we’ve known him, begins to purr. I knew he could do it; he is an Alpha, of course, and we’ve heard little buzzes here and there when one of us is worried. But this is a full-bodied, rich purring that makes the little Omega melt in my arms. Liquid shifter that spills to her feet, eyes heavy and drowsy looking, as she gives us a dopey smile. Her hips sway, and something tells me if she shifts right now, her tail will be wagging.
But the happiness is short-lived. The guards descend, one Beta wrapping his fingers around her upper arm and squeezing, leaning down to spit something in her ear that makes her shudder. Her scent darkens again, clogging my throat with her fear as he drags her off into the larger group. Finally, she disappears backstage with a searching glance at our table, leaving a lull in the noise.
“I want her, Fury,” I square my shoulders and take a deep breath, letting it puff my chest a little, “She’s a firecracker when she’s not afraid, and she has more issues than I do, and she’s gorgeous and she doesn’t care that…”
That I’m not perfect.
I don’t need to say the words for them to understand. The pack was all together when I had my accident a year ago, living through the worst of my issues and the follow-up. As much as I always wanted an Omega to join us and complete our family,as much as I wantedthisOmega, the fear that I will never be enough is crippling. She deserves more.
Palms cup my cheeks, the pads so heavily calloused that they could be sandpaper, but the warmth is unmistakable. Clay turns to me, his heavy body leaning up and over with his wide chest taking up most of my blurry vision.Tears. When had that happened?Smoothing out his silken shirt, I try to collect myself with the comfort of my pack around me as the first Omega is shunted out onto the platform, her information read out like a livestock sale. Clay presses a kiss to my forehead, and I briefly let my eyes flutter shut, breathing through the worry. Squeezing his hands between mine, I use him to hold me here, smiling when Lucas reaches to tap my foot with his own. On stage, the little female is a nervous wreck, one even I can scent again, and it hurts a little to see this already vulnerable designation thrust into such a stressful situation.
Movement catches my eye, and I turn to peer at Fury. Our Cardinal has his tight, predatory mask on, the one that turns him from a fun-loving goof to the one who would lay down his life and love for the rest of us. Running his tongue across enlarged fangs, his whisper is filled with Alpha command. Bowing our heads to him, electricity rides around the booth, surging between us all.
“We do this together, or not at all. She is our scent match, our mate, and whilst it could mean nothing at all… It could also be everything.” Dipping his head back until it rests on the back of the bench seat again, his suit pulls tight, and I can see the tension rippling. His gaze flickers to the stage, then he rolls back to the ceiling. “Pack vote. All in favor of bidding on Skye?”
“Aye,” Atlas’s response is instant, his stormy eyes drifting to the stage as if he can sense her back there, awaiting her turn at the block. He’s a simple man, Atlas, fitting the pack like the last piece of our puzzle. He needed little, wanted less, and I enviedhis ability to wake up with unending joy for life, even if he leaves his dirty laundry lying next to the basket instead of in it. “I like her. Teddy’s finally gonna have someone to cook all that food for, and we can run with her too.”
The corners of my lips twitch up, and a small chuckle escapes. He’s not wrong. I’m pretty much the housewife since I sold off the cattle, which means home-cooked meals for this bunch most days, even if it sometimes sits in the fridge for Fury and Lucas to get home in the mornings. It’s all I really have now.
“Aye,” Clay is next. His kind heart won’t let him answer any other way. I swear he’s like a bloodhound for the broken hearts and the needy. The man would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it. He doesn’t say any more than that, but watches the stage with lines striking his forehead. Most of the Omegas only have a single pack bidding, so they leave the stage bright and cheery, waving at their new Alphas and Betas.
Technically, in another vote around the house, we’d have enough to sway the decision, but this is too big to just go by majority.
“Aye,” I add mine next, watching my Cardinals’ blue eyes brighten, nodding his approval. Despite worrying, I trust my pack Alpha, and the rest seem to feel just as strongly. Except one.
Lucas’ expression makes me want to wrap him in my arms, tuck him at the center of our pack, and reassure him it’ll be okay, but he’s never been the kind to accept kindness, really. Concern is the most obvious, and I know he’s just wondering if he’ll survive another loss, especially after the last one broke up his previous pack. Then he’s hissing, watching another Omega pressed up onto the stage, eyes darting back and forth as if he’s trying to see how much time he has to calm himself, to let himself worry before he has to make a decision. Fury is calm, a wave of serenity at the other side of the table, even when we hear Skye's name up next.
“She still has a contract period, Luc,” Clay suggests, throat bobbing and sitting a little more square, watching the side door, “We gotta make a choice.”
The loudspeaker wails over us again, as it has all evening, “Next up, we have Skye Kerris. An Omega in her mid-twenties. She scents of rum, lime, and mint. Her last heat is marked as approximately five months ago, with blood tests showing rising hormones, so she’ll be due soon for you lucky Alphas.”
We all grimace at that. This spunky, fun Omega is reduced to her scent and heat cycle as two hugeguards march her up. Blood spatters ones shirt, and we watch her fight them fiercely as she snaps again.
“Luc…” I give him my best set of puppy eyes, “Please.”
Golden eyes flare like the sun, heated and burning through us, snarling as he stands, “Caralho,fine, aye, do what the fuck you want, nobody listens to me anyway. I’ll be taking fur when I get home, don’t bother looking for me.”
Shooting a hand to bid, Fury pins the MC with his glare, and we all notice how the guards start to shift uneasily, looking between themselves as the MC announces our pack name. Yet, nobody contests the claim as we stand to collect our Omega from the door she initially came through.
OurOmega.
That will take some getting used to, but we have a month before she either comes back or we can bond her.
As we make our way to the door, raised voices sound through from the corridor beyond.
“Anna, she is promised to me!” A male bellows, the furious scent of raging Alpha drifting through the cracks. Meeting Fury’s eyes, our two mountainous Alphas flank our sides like bodyguards. Atlas and Fury are fighting off their shift, something wild to the way they hold themselves, and their aura just feels… Off.
“I’m sorry, Vince! It is a new pack,” Another replied, “We even upped the entry fee to nearly ten times the usual and warned the rest of them. But closing the auction would have brought inspectors from HQ… She’s been around too long for that.” She sounds panicked, high and breathy as she pours excuses.
“You get me that fucking Omega or another like her, or I will dismantle your whole life piece by piece, and they willneverfind your body.” Footsteps ring out just before the lock clicks and the door swings open. This is the man who stopped Skye on her way to us earlier. He’s huge, easily on par with Clay and Atlas, and he makes my skin prickle like the shifters do… The wolves snap to him, thundering growls in echo as he turns to them, “You. You won the red-haired bitch. She is meant to be mine, and you’ve fucked up something bigger than you know. Watch your fucking backs.” Shoulder-checking Fury as he storms past, I release a harsh breath and lean against Clay, my heart galloping and my body shaking too much to trust my cane.
“Fucking shifters,” He rumbles, and I snort, watching the door he’s just come through, and there she is. Manhandled by one of the Betas, it pains me to see her muzzled and cuffed, fighting them as brutally as someone as small as her can. Thrashing and kicking, she screams like a banshee, turning heads in the main hall as the MC raises her voice to talk over the commotion. We don’t step in to help the guards as they wrestle the little wildcat of a woman out of it, and it’s comical as hell. Planting her feet on either side of the door, there’s a surprising strength in her as the two men grunt, trying to sweep her ankles from the walls.
