Page 2 of Pack Favero

With my hands tucked back in my pockets, my fingers playing with my cell, my thoughts drift back to Zira. I wonder if I’m making a mistake, keeping her and my pack separated. I know the guys have been itching as harshly as I have been for an omega to care for, to complete our little family. Now that I’ve found Zira, now that I’m slowly getting to know her, gain her trust, and slowly bring her into the fold of my life, I’m sure as I am that I need oxygen to breathe that she’s the one we’ve been looking for. I knew a week ago when Alek smelt her perfume onme and he clung to me like a koala in need of cuddling. I knew it a week before then when the twins came home early one night, inhaled, and went about making us and Silver banana splits for dessert after I cooked that night.

But most of all, I know it right now as my hands itch to message Zira. I know it because there’s nothing I want more than to leave this charity benefit and race to Zira’s apartment, coax her into telling me what’s wrong, and make it all better when she finally lets me in.

Deciding that self-control is for better men, I pull out my cell and instantly press dial on Zira’s number… only for it to go straight to voicemail. I try again, receiving the same answering machine message. After the third time, I decide that the little omega has turned her cell phone off, leaving me without the only form of contact I have to reach Zira.

Guess I have no choice but to stick out this charity event before rushing over to Zira’s and harassing her until she opens up to me. I’m not above the occasional harassment, within reason, especially if it gets me what I want.

So, with my mood quickly souring the longer I go without my Favero Fix, I drag through the next two hours with a stick up my ass, a perma-scowl the twins warn me about, and a need so deep in my chest that I can barely ignore it while making the rounds with the wealthy folk around me.

***

Sitting in the passenger side of Laz’s fancy car, I eye my cell, all too aware of the lack of messages or missed calls. I’m all too aware that Zira’s phone is still off and, when I checked her last location on the an app we both share, I almost had a fucking conniption when I realized it was at the hospital.

“You said the hospital, right?” Laz checks a second timesince I demanded that he drive me there and not to Zira’s apartment like I originally planned.

I nod rapidly. “That’s where her phone pings last. She’s at the hospital and I don’t know why. She told me she was fine.”

“Are you sure she’s there for herself?” he asks calmly, keeping to the speed limit and ensuring I don’t fly off the rails with worry.

My nod freezes while his question sinks into my mind and I pause, slowly shaking my head as I think about it. “It could be her mom. I know she’s sick, but not the extent of it. It could be either one of them.”

“Alright. We’ll figure it out, love. I just need you to remain calm and collected and not like the jazzed-up vibrator you’ve become. I know you’re worried. I’m worried and I haven’t ever met the girl who has you out of sorts. But let’s not get carried away before we know exactly what we’re dealing with,” Laz instructs gently, patting my bouncing leg before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “How about you take some deep breaths for me, hmm? Calm your mind and focus on your breathing.”

I do as I’m told, taking deep lungful’s of air while I try to empty my mind. Easier said than done when worry infects every facet of my being, but I try nonetheless, inhaling through my nose and exhaling from my mouth.

By the time we roll up to the hospital, I’m much calmer than I would have been without my fellow alpha and packmate.

That only lasts until I spother.

Standing at the counter, a stricken look on her beautiful face, Zira shakes her head at the nurse seated behind the reception desk. She looks paler that her usually creamy skin reflects, her minty-green eyes glassy with tears I can see from the entrance to the hospital.

I waste no time at all, my feet carrying me toward herbefore I realize I’m moving at all. I vaguely acknowledge Lazarus following after me, but my focus is solely on the five foot five inches of tiny omega with fiery-copper hair and freckles that would take me days to count.

The sound of my shoes must give me away, because Zira’s tear-stricken face darts over at me so suddenly that I almost stumble as I hurry toward her, only one goal in my mind and that is to reach her as quickly as my feet can carry me. My heart damn near stops at the pain in her eyes, the fear etched into every stunning feature of her face, and I’m damn near bowled over when I scent the sour notes of that very same stress infecting her usually soft, sweet, and creamy scent that normally makes my mouth water.

“Barnes?” she breathes, shock, relief, and confusion all melding into my name that falls from her lips like she can’t quite believe she’s seeing me stride through the hospital in an expensive tuxedo with my eyes on hers and nothing else.

I don’t reply. I can’t. I might growl if I so much as open my mouth, and that could very well scare the omega away. Instead, I grit my teeth and, when I finally reach her, I tug her gently into a hug that she melts right into with a stifled sob that breaks my heart in a billion pieces.

“Shh, I have you, Zira. I have you,” I whisper against her head when I finally feel like I’m not about to start releasing animalistic sounds that would scare even the most beastly predators.

Time passes, though I’m not sure how fast or slow. All I know is that Zira is here at the hospital, crying and stressed, and I haven’t a clue why. I just know that she needs me here, with her, cradling her against my body while she fights, tooth and nail, the soft sobs I can feel shaking her body. Her tears seep through my shirt, but I couldn’t possibly care less. Hell, she could take a knife to it and tear it up until it was nothing buttatters of material clinging to my body and I still wouldn’t care. So long as I have her near, I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give.

I can vaguely hear Lazarus speaking to the nurse behind the desk, using words like ‘pack’ and ‘family’ and ‘omega,’ though I can’t focus more on much else but Zira. I can’t tear my focus away from how she fists my shirt as she cries, how she presses her forehead into my chest so hide those tears from anyone who might be looking, or how she’s pushing closer and closer as my arms band tighter and tighter around her, hugging her so close that there’s no space for air to seep through.

Eventually, Lazarus leans in and whispers against my ear, “Her mother was brought in by ambulance after collapsing with shortness of breath and dizziness. It’s not looking good.”

I shut my eyes and clench my jaw, cuddling Zira closer as I run my hand over the wild strands of her fiery hair. It takes me a moment before I can speak again, and I pray my voice comes out soft as I intend when I ask, “What happened, Freckles?”

I feel Zira shake her head against my chest, her forehead pressed snug enough that I’m sure she could feel the beats of my heart thump against her. She doesn’t answer right away, sniffling and doing her hardest to try and pull herself back together. When she does, she pulls away from me and wraps her arms around herself as she presses her fingers to her mouth and breathes, “She needed a valve replacement, but we couldn’t afford it and our insurance wouldn’t cover it, so she refused to have it done. Didn’t want us in debt, because she’s stubborn. She thought she could get by if she didn’t do anything strenuous, despite me begging and pleading for her to have the surgery. She collapsed just walking from the kitchen to the living room.”

And then she’s crying again and I’m gently coaxing her back into the embrace of my arms so I can offer the comfort she needs and I’m all too willing to provide.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Laz offers, and it’s only thenI notice he’s rubbing up and down Zira’s spine in an act of comfort that sets me instantly at ease. Must do the same for Zira, too, because she sighs out of a harsh breath and turns her head to rest her temple against my chest. As soon as she’s facing Lazarus, he smiles softly at her and I hear Zira’s breath catch. Her scent doesn’t change, her stress potent enough to mask anything less than her worry. “Your mum is in safe hands here. Trust that they’ll do all they can to make sure she’s alright.”

Zira nods almost reluctantly, sniffling once more. Just as she opens her mouth, a nurse enters the waiting room we’re still standing in, calling out, “Zira Favero?”

My fiery-headed omega scrambles from my hold so fast that I almost get whiplash, her dainty hands swiping at her wet cheeks and she answers, “Yes, that’s me. Is my mom okay?”

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