Page 94 of Pucking the Enemy

Cormac shot a withering glare at Mrs. Giltbrook and wrapped both arms around Hazel. “Sorry, but unfortunately, you seem to be confused,” he said, mirroring her overly polite voice that was full of hatred.

Her mother’s mouth opened and closed a few times, her brow furrowing. I was impressed her face even moved because she had clearly been shoving filler into it at every opportunity.

“I’m sorry, but you have to leave. Now.” Her voice hardened as she attempted to pull Hazel back. Only, Cormac wasn’t letting that happen.

Roman stepped forward, his polite, customer service smile on his face. “We will be leaving… with our omega.”

“Hazel is not your omega.” Her polite façade faltered, replaced with revulsion as she stalked toward Roman. “My family doesn’t socialize with your kind!”

Roman’s eyebrows rose, and he chuckled. That only infuriated the woman further.

“What on earth is going on?” A tall man with thick, graying hair joined her side.

“Mother is embarrassing us,” Hazel said with a huff. I deduced that he was most likely her father.

“These people”—her mother spat the word—“are claiming they’re Hazel’s pack. They’re a bunch of no-good ruffians, trying to interrupt our nice event!”

“Hazel?” He frowned at his daughter. “Is this true?”

Both of her parents looked around the room. It was rapidly filling with guests who were gossiping. From what little I understood about these people, I knew that any kind of scandal would be their worst nightmare.

“Kick them out! They’re causing a scene,” she hissed. Truthfully, she was the one making a scene; she was just too obtuse to realize it.

Little did they know that Cormac would happily make one hell of a scene if they didn’t let Hazel go immediately.

“Yes. Let’s go, guys.” Hazel ducked toward Roman, Cormac ushering her to safety with us.

“Hazel Giltbrook! Come back here!” her mother snarled.

Turning to face her mother, Hazel shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll be leaving with my pack.” She grabbed a glass of champagne off a nearby waiter’s tray. Lifting it to her lips, she stilled for dramatic pause, peering down at the glass. “Oh, silly me!” She laughed.

Her mother cocked her head, the look of pure rage never leaving her face. “Hazel!”

“I can’t drink this!” Hazel continued, like her mother hadn’t spoken. “Given that I’m five months pregnant.” She shook her head, handing Cormac the drink, and with a shit-eating grin, he downed the glass.

Both her parents stared at her, speechless, her mother’s skin turning a very unhealthy looking gray color.

“Fuck, yeah, sweetness!”

Mrs. Giltbrook’s face twitched as she tried to absorb that shocking little bit of information.

They reached me, and I pulled my omega out of Cormac’s arms and into my own. I was flanked by Sebastian, who reached out to cup her face, giving her a silent look that spoke volumes.

“Are you going to continue insulting me?” Roman asked Hazel’s mother, laughing.

“Get out of my home!” the woman snapped. “You are absolutely disgusting, degenerate, perverted lowlifes!”

“Careful, Mrs. Giltbrook. You’re causing a scene.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Hazel made a small squeak of surprise. I got the impression that her mother didn’t swear much.

“There’s a reason I don’t associate with creatures like you, I sw?—”

She was cut off by one of the bystanders who was watching us with a puzzled expression. “Roman, my boy! How are you?”

“Mr. Fayette!” Roman responded, friendly as usual. And maybe a little smug. “How are you?”

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