Page 32 of Pack Fever

He chuckles, then runs his fingers through the dark, longer strands. My gaze falls to the muscles in his raised arm, and the inhale of his scent screams sex to me. My heart skips a beat, and I glance away from him, realizing I’m gawking.

“Give them time,” he says, not seeming to have noticed me drooling, thank God. “But until then, better to grab some food.”

He takes my hand in his, and we begin to walk to the table filled with assortments of salads, breads, and meats. A woman, maybe in her mid-sixties, strikingly beautiful with deep dark hair styled in waves off her face, approaches us with two drinks.

“Hi, Mom,” Seth says and leans down to kiss her on her cheeks.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come, but I’d glad you did, dear.”

Seth shrugs. “I couldn’t miss Grandpa’s ninetieth birthday. Now, where is he?”

“Inside with your father. Better you go let them know you’ve arrived.” Her smile is thin at the suggestion.

Seth’s hand in mine tenses once more, and there’s hesitancy before he smiles at me, saying he won’t be long, then leaves my side.

“Looks like you could do with a drink,” Seth’s mom says, pushing one of her two flute glasses filled with bubbly into my grasp. There’s an unmistakable resemblance between Seth and his mother—same high cheekbones and full lips.

“Thank you.” I sip from it, needing to drown in the bubbly to calm down.

“It’s so incredible Seth and the boys found someone. For a long time, I guessed he’d never settle down, given his line of work. It’s got to be difficult for any Omega, so I applaud you.”

I smile, unsure how to take her comment. Is it meant to be a compliment to me putting up with someone who’s too busy for a relationship, or is there more to her meaning? Although I’m not really his Omega… I don’t know where I belong, to be honest, because the past couple of days have been a whirlwind.

“It’s hard not to adore them when nature insists we’re meant to be together.” I do my best fake Omega girlfriend persona. “They’ve been nothing but incredible to me.” I can’t help but glance at Reed across the room, chatting to a girl easily my age. He looks like he’s enjoying talking to her.

I sure as hell don’t care what he does… even if my insides are twisting at the sight, and I want to rip him away from her.

“So, dear,” Seth’s mom says, drawing my attention back. “I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t told us about you. Is it a recent thing?” She’s flapping her free hand between me and the open French doors to indicate me and Seth.

My throat dries because we haven’t exactly worked out all the details, so I keep it vague. “Oh, to be honest, we’ve known each other for a while, then things just happened.”

She nods her head, sipping from her glass and studying me. Can she tell I’m lying? Mothers have an innate ability to pick up lies… My mom always knew when I fibbed.

Her gaze lowers to my hands. “I can’t believe he hasn’t given you the family ring.”

I blink at her, completely taken off guard. Ring?

“Come with me, and I will fix that right away!” She takes my drink and sets it on the table with hers, then takes my hand in hers. “My son would lose his head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

We’re suddenly moving toward the open doors and step into the mansion.

Inside, I feel as though I’ve stepped into another world—the opulence, the beauty of the house is breathtaking. Modern furniture is mostly white and looks untouched. Sofas are plush with cushions, and there’s a coffee table with a plate of cookies, though I wouldn’t dare eat in that room as I’d leave crumbs everywhere. There’s a large flat-screen television on the wall and shelves of books. I try to picture Seth growing up in such a perfect house.

Adjacent to the living room is a forming dining room, where a long, polished mahogany table is surrounded by high-backed chairs, the seats covered in dark velvet. There’s a gorgeous crystal vase in the middle, blooming with a bouquet of dahlias.

I follow Seth’s mother down the wide hallway, which is lit up with spotlights in the ceiling, and we move past the kitchen. Inside, I catch a glimpse of Seth, who has his back to me, in a heated conversation with two men. One is older, with a build that screams authority, especially with how he stands tall in front of Seth—probably his father. They have a similar build. The other man is seated in a chair and looks even older, age etched on the lines on his face. I’m guessing that's his grandfather—the birthday boy.

“Is nothing I do ever good enough for you?” Seth barks at his father, who wears a sour expression.

As quickly as I pass the kitchen, the tail end of their uncomfortable conversation follows me.

“When have you ever done as I asked? Why would you start caring about my opinion now? And this Omega… you just spring her on us with no warning?”

The words sing in the air as I move away from the kitchen, following Seth’s mother, who doesn’t seem to notice the argument.

My heart hurts at something I know I shouldn’t have overheard.

In no time, we enter a small office. It’s cozy and modest compared to the rest of the house, with a large wooden desk in the middle. Bookshelves are on one wall with a range of books and decorative knick-knacks. The room feels lived in, as though whoever owns it spends a lot of time here.

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