Page 67 of Pack Larsen

Laughing, I’m about to put my phone away with my ego expanded and my chest warm, when another message comes through. It’s an individual text, and it simply reads:

MUNRO:Ready when you are.

Biting my lip and suddenly feeling a flurry of nerves in my stomach, I straighten my dress before taking a deep, steadying breath, and leaving the nest. I’m walking through the hallways and rushing down the stairs quickly, looking for Munro. It takes a moment, finding him sitting in his beat-up car that looks like it could do with a fresh lick of paint just outside the garage. I add it to a new list I form in my head of the things to do for pack Larsen, a sudden urge in my chest that wants to spoil them now that they’re mine.

Heading over to the passenger side, I slide into the seat with a squeak of leather, smiling awkwardly over to Munro, “All set.”

Munro nods, dark eyes roaming over every inch of me before he faces the road ahead with his hands tightening on the wheel. We’re pulling out without another word, and the whole ride to work is done with an intense atmosphere that has the tension in my body growing at rapid speed.

By the time we park in the employee lot, I’m flushed and antsy and ready to dive from the car so I can heave in a fresh breath of air. The silence has been too charged between us, I’ve been inhaling pine and citrus all through the drive, and I’m pretty sure I’m perfuming enough that there’s no way Munro doesn’t notice. Pretty sure he stopped breathing at one point, and I worry that maybe this isn’t what the beta wants after all.

I can’t ponder on it, because the next thing I know, he’s out of the car and holding the door to my side open. I climb out with a hard swallow, accidentally brushing against the beta and inhaling sharply when I feel him. Every hard inch.

“You’ve got work to do, princess. I’m hanging on by a thread. Go do your thing, and then we’ll talk,” he grunts as I look up at him, finding his dark eyes practically molten with a desire he’s kept hidden until right now. I mean, it would be pointless to hide it after I rubbed against the evidence of his feelings.

Nodding rapidly, knowing he’s right even as I perfume a little more, hoping like fuck that the slick pooling between my legs doesn’t start dripping down my bare thighs, I step back and breathe, “Talk later.”

Before either of us can utter another word, the back door to Raverz opens and Tanner bursts through in all of his chaotic glory. “Oh my god, Silver. Thank fuck you’re here. The crowd is already crazy after we announced you’d be playing all night, and they’re turning feral waiting. I know you’re not due to start yet, but I would owe you my life if you could possibly get that small tushy of yours inside and start blowing minds with your gift of music.”

Biting my lip as I continue staring at Munro, he jerks his head toward Tanner and teases, “Better get going, princess. A life is on the line.”

Rolling my eyes, I do as I’m told, and Tanner grabs my hand and drags me to his office before I can do anything else. He’s taking a mile a minute, and I’m barely able to keep up, but finally catch his words when he says, “I’ve put everything together on the stage for you, because I thought there was going to be a damned riot. You just need to grab your mask and go.”

So, I do. I’m in my bunny mask and standing on stage in a matter of minutes, my work laptop open at the ready. The room is dark, but I can feel the number of people in the room. It’s madness, a wave of palpable energy reaching me from where I stand on the raised platform. I can hear the chatter of patrons, can hear the scuffing of feet that mingles with the low beat of a song playing through a speaker nearby.

As soon as I’ve set up my new setlist, I press the button for the speaker that silences the music, and the crowd instantly cheers. It’s so loud that the hairs all over my body stand on end, and my breath catches in my chest as a flood of adrenaline fills every limb of my body. Holy shit, this is crazy.

Adjusting the mic so it brushes my lips, my face from my nose up covered with a neon bunny mask that covers only half of my face, I take a breath that has the crowd buzzing before I breathe, “Are we ready to have a good time?”

The crowd roars, and I grin into the darkness, now seeing several phones coming to life with their torches lit or cameras recording.

“I said, are we ready to have a good fucking time?” I ask, a little louder to get the hype notched higher.

Sure enough, the crowd turns near deafening, and I chuckle into the mic right before my fingers start flicking switches, twisting dials and starting a steady beat of a song I’ve been working on. I let it play for a stretch, a steady thump of a bass blaring through my speakers on either side of the DJ deck, before I drawl, “Then let’s do this, Raverz.”

And then I blast the song loudly just as the strobe lights flash on and the crowd goes fucking wild. Bodies start jumping with the beat of the song, boisterous screams and hollering breaking through the crowd, and I grin into the sea of faces as I throw my hand in the air while I nod to the beat, knowing there’s a sick drop coming that turns the crowd electric.

Strobe lights are flying everywhere as the song builds and builds, patrons jumping and gyrating with the beat, and I start to lose myself to the thrill of performing for a crowd as big as this.

I’m grinning widely just as the song hits the peak and, like they’re paid actors, the crowd turns silent all of a sudden, right as the beat drops and the song blasts through the speakers with a catchy tune that has everyone raving wildly.

The rest of the set goes very much the same, everyone having a riot of a time while I play song after song for their enjoyment. I’m sweating beneath the lights, my mask sticking to my face, but I can’t find it in me to care. Adrenaline is coursing through my body enough that I’m lost to the vibe, jumping up and down and dancing goofily on the stage while my own songs turn the patrons of Raverz into a sea of frenzied bodies having a good time.

I have no idea where Munro is in the club, finding my eyes scanning for him in between songs, but eventually, I focus on finishing my set, playing until the club is closing. As soon as the last song ends with a long note of the guitar, I call into the crowd, “It’s been a riot, Raverz! Don't forget to tip your bar staff, and I’ll see you on the flip side!”

The strobe lights cut out there and then, and I finally take a shaky breath as the crowd begins to disperse for the evening. I waste no time in packing everything away while Tanner clears the club out, wanting out of this tight dress that has my body slick with sweat.

I’ve just placed everything back into Tanner’s office, my mask tucked away neatly with my gear, and am leaving the hallway that leads into the club in search of Munro when a hard body interrupts my journey.

Flinching back when the scent of liquorice hits me, I look up and find a broad-shouldered alpha grinning down at me. He’s at least a foot taller than me, his scent as cloying and thick as the muscle straining against his t-shirt that looks to be a size too small for the guy.

“You looked hot up there, Pixie Dust,” the guy slurs, leaning in and forcing me to take a step.

Attempting to be polite, I smile and mutter, “Thanks, dude. Glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, absolutely,” the guy laughs drunkenly, and I have to make a conscious effort not to roll my eyes. “You want to feel how much I enjoyed it? Seeing you up there got me real hard. Got my knot swollen already.”

Okay, ew, what the fuck? What a creep.

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