Page 61 of Pack Larsen

“You really did. I wasn’t expecting the paddle launch, though,” she agrees, shaking her head like she’s envisioning it all over again. “He gave it some welly, to be fair. Almost clocked the auctioneer in the eyebrow. Ten out of ten for effort.”

“That’s what happens when you spoil children and they don’t get what they want,” Professor Barnes snickers, before he stands from his seat and declares, “I’m going to make sure Alek doesn’t spend his entire life savings on the yacht the Johnsons are auctioning. Good luck, kid.”

Silver grins at the professor before claiming a seat between Rage and me, sliding a catalog from the table and peering inside with as much interest as a child in a toy store. It’s too adorable, and I can’t help but sit back and watch the emotions play across her pixie-like features as she eyes something she likes and wrinkles her nose at something she doesn’t.

I’m still watching when she pauses and frowns before lifting her head and leaning towards the twins. Rage drops his hand to her thigh as soon as she does, and she relaxes a fraction, only to ask him, “This isn’t going to make things weird between us, right? With the whole money thing? These auctions tend to get a little crazy, and I’ll probably spend a small fortune, but I don’t want it to get weird.”

Rage’s face softens, even as regret filters through his eyes, and he leans in to whisper, “I’m sorry I made you feel like you have to check in about that. It’s your money to do with as you please, Sunshine. If that means buying shit to make sure Meemaw gets the money she needs for her charity, then I’ll consider it a noble cause. Even if it wasn’t and you were just spending money because you wanted to, I’d be more than okay with it. It’s not my place to censor your spending or manage it, and I shouldn’t have acted like an asshole before about it. Trust me when I say I have learned my lesson. So long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Okay?”

The more the bastard speaks, the bigger Silver smiles.

“So, what if I bid on, I don’t know, a trip to the moon?” she queries, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“I’d think you were weird for wanting to go into space, but I’d support it, so long as you don’t get lost floating among the stars,” he answers with mock seriousness, making her snort.

“Okay, what if I bid on a box of puppies?” she tests, laughing when Rage cringes.

“I’ll help take care of them, I guess, but I’m not dealing with their shit,” he shrugs, even though I know he hates dogs, a bone-deep fear of his after a nasty dog bit him and left a scar on his leg when he was a kid.

“What if I bid on a sex bed?” she challenges, raising her eyebrow.

I’ll be damned if that doesn’t capture all of our attention, and it’s Aero that blurts, “There’s a sex bed up for auction?”

“Oh my god,” Silver laughs, shaking her head just as Meemaw returns to the stage, a catalog in hand.

“Alright, everyone. Are we ready to empty our wallets?” she calls into the mic, receiving a wave of cheers and claps. “Then let’s begin. First up, we have a weekend staycation getaway at Bromley's country home. We’ll start the bidding at five hundred dollars.”

Several paddles go up and the action begins, with the weekend at Bromley’s country home going for eight thousand dollars. After checking the catalog and seeing the usual cost of a mere weekend at the fancy country home sitting at double the cost, I decide that this madness can be left for the wealthy. Not that I planned on bidding, knowing I couldn’t afford the car ride to such an estate.

People with money are crazy.

I eye my omega carefully, watching as she folds pages in her catalog, and shake my head in horror. I bagged myself a crazy omega.

When she looks up and grins at me, I decide it’s worth it. Fuck it all. She can bid on a trip to space and I’ll sit back and watch her happily.

The auction goes on for a while after the first item on the list sells, and I realize quickly I’m sitting in a room with people with more money than sense. The numbers that are thrown about are wildly first-world numbers, and I’m blown away by the staggering amounts some people will go to in order to win.

Silver tries her hand at a few auctions, earning a narrowed gaze from Meemaw, and she somehow wins a chocolate hamper the size of her body, filled with luxury candy that would take a year to get through, a weekend spa treatment at some fancy resort that costs more than I earn in half a year, and years’ worth of meals cooked and delivered by some famous restaurant owned by a master chef I’ve seen all over the television.

I’m beyond amused watching her, as are the others, each of us enraptured as she continues to smile cheekily at her Meemaw with every win she takes home. It doesn’t escape my notice that a certain bitch is staring at her daughter from across the room, her eyes narrowing every time Silver’s paddle flies in the air, but Silver either doesn’t seem to notice or doesn’t care enough to offer her energy to her mother.

It’s as soon as Meemaw announces the next item in the auction that a flip is switched inside Silver. Gone from the chill, goofy girl bidding on silly things just to spend her money on Meemaw’s charity is now a woman gunning to win the moment Meemaw says, “Next up, a two-week vacation to the Bahamas. All inclusive, private plane, and complimentary champagne included. An absolute steal. If I wasn’t acting as auctioneer tonight, I’d snap this up myself.”

Laughter floods the room, but not from Silver. Oh, no. That psycho omega of mine is locked in, her gray eyes full of focus as she slides to the edge of her seat in preparation.

“Should I find that look on her face as hot as I do?” Aero whispers, his head tilted as he watches Silver.

I shrug, because I don’t know. I just know there’s something inexcusably sexy about her right now, despite the crazed look in her eyes.

“She’s always hot,” Haze quips, goofily grinning at Silver, not that she notices.

“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred dollars,” Meemaw declares, and suddenly it’s game on.

Paddles are flying, the number is rising, and Silver is locked in. She’s the embodiment of focus, of speed, her paddle spending more time in the air than on her lap. Eventually, the bidding whittles down to three people. Silver, some dude with a toupée that looks two shades darker off from his natural color, and fuckingCynthia.

When Cynthia smirks and holds her paddle up with the next offer, the guy bows out, and it’s down to her and Silver. I can feel Silver’s frustration, but she doesn’t display it, continuing with the bidding war until the cost of the bid surpasses what the vacation would cost if Silver bought it herself.

When it doesn’t look like her mother has any plan on backing down, her paddle going up with ease on the next offer, Silver bows out with a pitiful sigh that would make me laugh if the omega-worthy pout hadn’t appeared on her face. “I hate that bitch.”

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