Page 174 of Psycho Pack

Their possessive reactions should probably scare me. Once, it would have. But now, surrounded by these alphas who've proven time and again that they'd die for me—that they'd kill for me—I feel safe.

Cherished.

Loved.

"Okay," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "Let's find me something suitably… omega-ish."

The next hour is a whirlwind of silk and lace, beads and embroidery. The attendants bring out outfit after outfit, each more elaborate than the last. It's overwhelming, but exhilarating too. I've never had so many choices before.

"Oh, this one's perfect," Whiskey says, holding up a deep crimson gown with a plunging neckline and a slit up to the thigh. "You'll look smoking hot in this, Ivy."

Before I can respond, Plague steps between us, his eyes narrowed. "Absolutely not. It's too revealing."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" Whiskey argues. "High-class omegas are usually shown off, right?"

"Notouromega," Plague mutters.

"How about a compromise?" I suggest, holding up a midnight blue gown with silver accents. The neckline is still low, but not too scandalous, and there are strategic cutouts that hint at skin without revealing too much. "This one's sexy, but still elegant."

The alphas exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Thane nods. "It's suitable. But you'll need something to cover up with, just in case."

We find a matching wrap that drapes elegantly over my shoulders, easy to remove if needed but providing an extra layer of modesty. As I slip behind a curtain to try it on, I can hear the alphas muttering among themselves.

"We'll need to be on high alert," Thane says. "There will be alphas from all over. Powerful ones, used to getting what they want."

"Let them try," Valek growls, his usual playful tone replaced by something darker. "I'd love an excuse to spill some blue blood."

"We're not there to start a fight," Plague reminds them, but there's an edge to his voice that wasn't there before. "But if anyone so much as looks at her wrong..."

"They're dead," Whiskey finishes. "Simple as that."

Wraith growls low in agreement.

"Yes. We go scorched earth if it goes south," Thane says gravely. "The only thing that makes it safer at all for Ivy is that they tend to ignore omegas at these events."

"Guess that's why it's not called the Alpha's Omega," Whiskey says with a snort.

I should probably be nervous after what I just overheard. But as I step out from behind the curtain, watching their eyes widen as they take in my appearance, all I feel is a rush of power.

"Well?" I ask, doing a little twirl. "What do you think?"

For a moment, none of them speak. Then Whiskey lets out a low whistle. "Damn, wildcat."

"You look..." Plague starts, then trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Like a queen," Thane finishes, his voice rough.

Wraith signs to me pointedly.Our queen.

Valek is struck unusually speechless.

With my outfit settled, we turn our attention to the alphas' attire. They need to look the part of powerful, wealthy pack leaders, which means trading in their usual tactical gear for something more refined.

Plague, of course, looks right at home in the finery. He chooses a tailored black suit with subtle gold accents that complement his royal bearing. Thane opts for a deep charcoal ensemble that emphasizes his broad shoulders and commanding presence.

Whiskey bitches the whole time, but even he can't deny how good he looks in the navy blue tuxedo we pick out for him. Valek, predictably, goes for something flashier—a white suit with silver embroidery that matches his hair and eyes.

But it's Wraith who surprises me the most. When he emerges from the dressing room in a perfectly fitted black suit, his massive frame somehow even more imposing in the formal wear and matching scarf, my breath catches in my throat. He looks... regal. Dangerous in an entirely different way than usual.

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