Page 156 of Feral Alphas

Colt freezes. “Oh, fuck me!”

I laugh and take them from him, knocking the caps off against a brick ledge one at a time.

“What would I do without you?” he asks as he takes one.

“Go to work with creased shirts,” I shoot back.

“Truth,” he murmurs before taking a swig. “And probably fall apart.”

I sip my beer, letting the cold fizz burn across my tongue and down my throat. “But we didn’t. None of us fell apart.” Not Rose, or Kye, Zane, Uno, or even Liam. And definitely not me.

I lean my head on his shoulder, hearing his big heart double beat through his broad chest—a heart strong enough to hold this pack of ferals and one gorgeous omega together through all that life’s going to throw at us.

We were both headed down dark roads until we crashed into each other’s lives, but now we have more love and laughter than a person can handle.

After an hour or two here under the stars, we’ll head home to be embraced by our pack: Zane will ask if we’re home, and then demand a kiss, Uno will slink up to Colt to have his bite tended to, Rose will squeal and throw herself at us, and Kye will check me over with his intelligent eyes while Liam smiles on, his heart slowly mending.

I drag my fingers across the tender puncture marks in my skin. Whatever life sends our way, this bond will hold.

Epilogue—One Year Later

Rose

“Ready?” Colt asks, holding out his hand.

I suck in a deep breath and slide across the backseat, holding the train of my dress out of the way. Flashlights pepper the air like big, blinding snowflakes as I take his hand and set my low heels on the pavement. It’s like the scenes on TV we omegas used to dream about back at the illegal center. My midnight blue dress sparkles when the silver embellishments catch the lights, and the gauze sleeve flutters in the breeze as I reach a hand back for my feral alpha.

You’d never know Zane used to be a wild animal of a man, as he contorts through the doorway and straightens, running one hand self-consciously over the matching midnight blue tuxedo. His black hair stands taut with gel and his clean-shaven jaw stiffens as he catches all the new scents. Murmurs run through the crowd, and I know exactly why. Even with the scar through one eyebrow, Zane is one stunning specimen of an alpha.

“Come on, Zane,” I say, looping my hand through his arm, and he crooks his elbow like the perfect gentleman he is.

Colt takes my other side with Luka and Kye flanking us.

A reporter waves a microphone into Colt’s pathway, and we pause to hear his question. “Agent Nesters, what made you decide to release your grandfather’s final compositions after all these years?”

Colt glances over at Kye. “I was waiting until I found a musician worthy of upholding my grandfather’s legacy.” Our musical packmate smiles, the grateful look full of love for his bonded alpha, and I’m a little jealous they can share an emotional connection. But I don’t have to wait much longer.

Our pack leader smiles for the cameras. “The Rephnelium Foundation is grateful to Kye Nesters for taking on the mantle, and also to the Cloud Nine Orchestra for lending us their support for this joyful evening.”

There are more questions as we stroll up the red carpet. Has forming a pack contributed to the revitalization of the Rephnelium Foundation? Is it true the composer’s house could become a public museum? Is Kye working on any new compositions currently? Does he hope to reconcile with his father?

Colt and Kye weave their way gently through the scrutiny as we pace into the Olivia Hunston Theatre, named after the famous omega actress who’s done so much for the arts culture in this city.

In fact, the actress arrives after us, getting out of a silver Mercedes with three huge alphas in her escort. They look a little too polished for my liking, as I glance across my varied men, each one as unique looking as their personalities and I give a happy giggle.

My men swivel my way as my scent flares. I’ve felt a few twinges today suggesting my heat is coming, but nothing and nobody is going to stop me from seeing Kye perform today.

A microphone appears in front of my face, the reporter leaning right over the barrier. Zane growls faintly and Luka wraps one armaround our ruffled packmate. “Madam Rose, we’re all excited for your debut into the haze market next week. Is it true you’ll be donating proceeds to rehoming feral alphas?”

I grip Colt’s arm a little tighter as I lean toward the microphone. “I’m lucky enough to have found my true pack, but there’s many out there who don’t get the opportunity to even submit a scent match sample. Fifty percent of the proceeds of my haze will be going to support alphas in troubled situations.”

“And why alphas, instead of helping omegas?”

I tug Zane closer against me and glance up pleadingly at Colt. He smiles and answers on my behalf. “Rose believes the Darinian Omega Center does an excellent job in supporting disadvantaged omegas, however Alpha Lodgings is overrun with residents who just need a second chance at life.”

After a few more comments, he excuses us and we enter the beautiful modern theatre, designed in a sail shape to maximize acoustics. An usher leads us straight to a private box where red velvet seats and champagne await—plus lemonade for me because I’m still not keen on wine after that first failure. Scent dampening machines puff quietly every few minutes to keep the air inside the building relatively neutral.

The orchestra warms up on stage behind the curtains, the soft sound of strings accompanying the murmuring full-house crowd. Kye rubs his hands nervously on his suit pants. “Well, I better go join them.”

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