Page 18 of Pack Larsen

I remember it all so clearly. The salads for dinner every night, the constant water tracking, the way my fucking heats were tracked meticulously. I would be shipped to an Omega center for an entire week while I suffered through my heats, my designation coming in at an early age for an omega. From the age of thirteen I had to deal with painful heats with no relief, only the center to help me through them with methods and ways to ease the pain. Then, as if that wasn’t uncomfortable enough, being taught how to masturbate through a fucking heat cycle, I was told that I wouldn’t be allowed suppressants unless a potential pack allowed it.

Fucking crazy, right? Well, that was my life until the age of sixteen.

I guess Aero wasn’t expecting such a trauma dump, because the guy turns silent for a long moment, so I simply settle into the car ride and wait him out.

Chapter 7

Silver

“Holy shit, babe,” Aero eventually breathes, shaking his head in stunned disbelief.

Of course, he’s stunned. I mean, my parents paint a pretty picture, and I’m confident pack Larsen Googled my name and parents before they moved in this weekend. I know I Googled them, finding absolutely jack shit on the five men living in my house, but I wouldn’t receive such grace. One look online would show a happy, rich family with an omega daughter that they dote on.

What a crock of shit. The only ones who’ve ever doted on me are my grandparents and Alek.

Snorting, I nod. “You can say that again. I lived with Meemaw from then on, ended up on suppressants, and was pushed to do anything and everything that took my fancy. The only thing I kept was my love of music, my ability to play piano, guitar, and violin, and being able to survive on six hours sleep. Though, just because I can survive it, I will turn into a miserable bitch without my full eight hours.”

Aero chuckles, though it doesn’t hold the same vibrancy and life that it usually does, and I don’t like that at all. I prefer the bright laughter, the one that brings me butterflies I want to smother.

Before I can do or say something to get that laughter back, Aero finally asks, “So, why are you going to this charity ball? Or, more importantly, why have you been guilt-tripped into going?”

At this, I smile. A fond, loving smile, because although that old woman did guilt-trip me, it was only done out of love. “Because Meemaw and her husbands are the main benefactors of the new, and free to the public, Omega clinics that are being built throughout the country. Additional clinics to the Omega centers that will help omegas when their designations come in, that will provide information and opportunities for learning how to live as an omega, exploring options when it comes to heats and such.”

“Oh, shit. That’s amazing,” Aero rushes, mouth agape and eyes lit like he’s genuinely excited about the prospect. I’m sure he would be, since he’s an omega himself.

“I don’t know if you ever experienced The Centre, but they’re more about setting up omegas for heats and shit, you know?” I ask, curious about Aero’s past. I mean, I’ve spewed my life story to the guy already, so it’s only fair to wonder about his, too, right?

He shakes his head. “I can’t say I’ve ever been to one, honestly. Munro and I have been friends since before our designations came in, and Munro always made sure I had everything I needed when my heats hit. Foster kids don’t tend to have what they always need, especially not omegas.”

Well, shit. That makes me feel like an asshole for my story.

Wincing, I mutter, “Sorry. I probably sound like a spoiled brat to you, huh?”

“Not at all,” he’s quick to assure, reaching his hand for my tight and squeezing one, setting off a different burst of butterflies in my belly and nether region. Fucking hell, this is so not the time.

Subtly, I open the window, inhaling the fresh air deeply in an attempt to clear my mind of the crawling arousal that fills my body from a single touch, before I say, “Well, The Centre is more of a stopping point. Like, a place that will give you a secure room and necessities to get through a heat if you’re packless. Once your heat is done, they’ll provide you with suppressants if you need them. That’s basically the top and bottom of it. Even Juniper had a shit experience with them. And after my experiences with The Centre, Meemaw decided that omegas should be better educated on their own bodies and designation. They’re learning hubs as well as clinics that will offer different forms of suppressants, from pills or injections, along with scent-cancelling measures like shampoo, body wash, and spray.”

“That sounds incredible. Your Meemaw sounds awesome,” Aero gushes sweetly, hand still on my thigh, and I smile over at him briefly before focusing back on the road.

“She is,” I agree. “Which is why I’m going to the benefit. It’s a big deal for her and my Paws, and they did it with me in mind. I’d be a brat not to attend, even if my parents are hosting the thing.”

“That’s fair. I can understand that, I guess,” Aero relents, his thumb stroking a line over my thigh, back and forth, back and forth, driving me out of my mind. “But why did they agree for your parents to host the party?”

“It’s all politics. My mom, Meemaw’s daughter, does a lot of charity work because it makes her look good. Her charity benefits always bring in the biggest donors and a heap ton of dollars. That will help expand the clinics further and provide more help to omegas. So, even though this was a clever, little tactic for more publicity for my mom, her endeavors, and my parents suppressant company, it means Meemaw will get more funding that isn’t coming just directly out of her pocket and the Omegashine Foundation that she funded when I was sixteen,” I explain, sharing just how incredibly Meemaw, Paw Hudson and Paw Copper are. There’s no one like them in the whole world, and I’ve never been prouder to be their granddaughter. With a shrug, I answer the next question I’m sure Aero would conjure next, “Pretty sure my mother is hoping they can talk to my grandparents into supplying their brand of suppressants at the clinics, but it’s not going to happen. They want nothing to do with their shit, but the ball is a strategic play to ensure more money for the clinics.”

“Well, shit. That was more than I was expecting,” Aero breathes, sinking into his seat with a somewhat dazed expression on his gorgeous face. A face that I could easily dream of, with his high cheekbones and sharp jaw, glittering, pale-blue eyes, and a body to die for. The man is a walking fantasy that smells like Christmas.

I smile. “I don’t tell people my life story, because what’s the point? The only person to stick around is Juno. Alek, his pack, and Meemaw’s pack don’t count, because they’re my true family, along with his mom and dads. But Meemaw’s accomplishments? Hell, I’ll scream those from every rooftop.”

Aero laughs, and it’s that bone-tingling, heart-tripping sound that has my perfume leaking a little. Down goes the window again, and I hope and pray he doesn’t scent it on me. The last thing I need right now is to be confined in my car with a sexy omega being sweet while my perfume is signaling that I’m turned on by him.

“So, you’re going to this benefit dateless to support your grandmother, even though you know you’re going to get accosted by your mother by potential packs you have no interest in? You have no interest in them, right?” he asks, and I’m sure there’s a funny, little bite to his words I don’t quite understand.

Eyebrows raised, I nod slowly, confirming, “Definitely not interested. Every dude my mother prances in front of me is so far away from being my type that it’s laughable.”

Did Aero’s body just relax at my words? I think so, but before I can ponder on it, analyze it until it makes no sense, and overthink the action, he shrugs a shoulder and easily offers, “Then do what Lazarus suggested. Take a pack with you and claim them as yours. She’s bound to leave you alone then.”

I frown, pulling into the quiet street my house lives on. “Oh, yeah? And where am I going to find a pack willing to go along with that shit?”

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