Page 83 of Wanted Beta

My pack.

“Uh, yeah,” she admits. “Sort of.”

Arrow laughs. “Right. You met Jack while Enzo and I were kind of … busy.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it, for sure,” she says, smiling at Arrow.

Gio lets out a burst of laughter. “Don’t tell me you two were fucking?”

“Okay, we won’t tell you,” Arrow jokes, taking most of the tension out of the booth with his playful attitude.

What’s left is sexual with a hint of awkward energy on top.

Beth is clearly attracted to us, but she doesn’t want to be, or at least, she doesn’t think she should be.

Most Betas are awkward around us.

Our Omega’s magnetism tends to attract them but seeing us as a group tends to turn them off again, which in general is a good thing.

It’s easier to protect our Omega and our pack when we’re not fending off the advances of random strangers.

We don’t want awkward energy with Beth.

She’s meant for us, and we’re meant for her.

It should be crystal clear, easy to recognize.

For us, it is.

Whatever’s muddying her vision needs to be uncovered and dealt with before we can go any farther. Our mate won’t be ours to mark and claim until she’s free of this awkward energy.

“So, you were at the restaurant, then?” Gio asks Beth.

“I was,” she admits. “My sister brought home pizza last night and I had a craving for more.”

She came to the restaurant to eat.

Of course she did.

Why else would someone walk through our door?

The thought that she came looking for food and didn’t get any disturbs me more than it probably should. I don’t know why I didn’t connect that it was why she was there.

“Well, if you think Enzo’s pizza is addictive, you should try some of his bolognese,” Arrow says, naming one of his favorite dishes. “I don’t know what he puts in the sauce but …”

He trails off with a soft moan.

It makes my pants tighten.

I ignore the urge to touch my Omega.

Tonight, we have a guest, and I don’t want to scare her away.

She steals a glance at me. “I have no doubt that anything Enzo makes is delicious.”

“Are you still hungry?” I ask, ready to rush home and bring her back whatever she wants.

“I made do with the mall’s food court,” she says.

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