Hale winces, Riven grabs a nearby sudoku book and starts scribbling madly, while Calder reclines in pensive silence.
“Here, here!” Ezra raises a soda can. “An omega after my own heart.”
“Pack life just isn’t for me.” I shrug.
When Riven’s pen almost goes through the page, Calder places a surprisingly tender hand on Riven’s arm. It seems toinstantly calm him, giving Calder the opportunity to gently take the pen away.
“Sorry.” Riven shakes his head in frustration. “Force of habit.”
Hale leans in closer to me. “I don’t believe that bonding means compromising on your wants. If you,” he clears his throat, “if an omega were to join our pack, we’d support her in following her dreams. Whatever it takes.”
Does he really meant that? My tongue feels too large for my mouth, my mouth as dry as sandpaper. I grab the nearest soda and take a long slug, the fizz burning my throat as I drink.
A hot rush of possessiveness sweeps through me at the thought of another omega sitting at this table, breathing in their scents.
“Anyway.” The chair legs screech across the floor as I jump up. I can’t let my mind imagine what it would be like to be the Valen Pack omega. A daydream. That’s all it is. A stupid daydream that shouldn’t make my whole body tingle with excitement. “I really better go. I’ve already imposed enough. All I came here to do was apologize, and I’ve done that.”
“You can stay for dessert?” Riven begs me with his electric blue eyes. “The sCream Queen truck runs through Forestville tonight.”
As amazing as one of Vi’s ice creams sounds, I have to get out of here before I say or do something I may regret. Before anyone can even rise from the table, I grab my coat and practically sprint out of their apartment.
All this talk about bonding and the Valen Pack’s future omega is too much. It’ll be better for everyone if I keep my distance. At least that way I can avoid all of the involuntary fuzzy feelings I seem to get whenever I’m around them.
TWENTY
Riven
Reading people’s emotions isn’t something I’m very good at. I listen to their words and what they’re saying, often taking it very literally, but Kady’s erratic actions completely confuse me. I wish someone would write a manual to understand women. Quadratic equations are easy to understand, but the workings of her mind are a complete mystery.
Hale slumps back in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh.
“Well, that went well,” Calder mutters.
I can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic or how he feels about the situation. On one hand, he and Kady seem to hate each other, but there’s a tension between the two of them that doesn’t feel like hate at all. Why are emotions so complex?
As the silence stretches out, I’m hit by a tugging in my chest. Now that she’s gone, something feels missing. Hale and I believe Kady is our scent match, but where does that leave us if she doesn’t want a pack? What do we do next?
“I told you so,” Ezra eventually declares, looking smug. “She’s not interested in a pack.”
“She doesn’t understand what having a true pack is like,” Hale corrects him before his lip curls, and Ezra rolls his eyes. “Rolling your eyes won’t change how you feel.”
Ezra scoffs, getting up from the table and busying himself with clearing plates.
“Why didn’t you tell her about your,” Calder makes quotation marks with his fingers, “scent-match theory?”
“She’s not ready to hear it yet,” Hale replies then points at Calder and Ezra. “And apparently, neither are you two. She’s our scent match. I can feel it.”
“So do I,” I pipe up.
Well, at least I think that’s how I feel. There’s no other logical reason for the strange sensations my body feels when she’s around.
Their eyes swivel in my direction. I’m the quietest of our pack, so when I speak, they listen.
“I’ve been doing research.” I have an almost photographic memory, which is very handy. My thoughts are organized in a mental filing cabinet, and I can sort through reams of information quickly. Right now, snippets of previously read articles are swimming before my vision. “When she’s around…” I close my eyes, recalling the magical sensation I experience in her presence. “It’s like a magnetic pull. When I was in the library, I could smell her from across the room, even though she was wearing scent blockers. It’s as if my body was being pulled toward her, like a hidden force.”
“That’s all mumbo jumbo.” Calder snickers flippantly. “Sure, I can’t deny that she smells good.” Hale raises his eyebrows. “Fine, she smells great.” Calder moves a cushion over his lap. “But that doesn’t prove that this whole scent match theory is correct. Isn’t it plausible we just like how she smells? Some things just smell better than others.”
“Have you experienced a reaction like that around anyone before?” I recount the questions to a “Are they your scent match?” quiz. “Do you feel like her scent is only for you? Doyour emotions heighten when she’s around? What about your arousal?—”
