Page 9 of Pack Favero

“If you want to keep calling it that, then yeah. That was the woman that birthed you,” I snicker, enjoying this interaction more than I rightfully should. I can’t help it. This is the most fun I’ve had with a stranger since Lazarus took us to England and introduced us to his mother.

“I’m going to kick her ass when she’s well enough to accept her fate,” she grumbles, wincing as she watches my oversized hands trying to delicately braid strands of my hair too small for me to work with.

When she huffs a breath and peers up at the ceiling for a long moment, I watch raptly as several thoughts filter across her face before she rolls her head toward me and finally asks, “Do you need help?”

My hands pause. “You can braid hair?”

Zira nods. “Mom taught me when I was little, and I’m a sucker for a hair tutorial or two. Consider me offering to do your hair as a thank you for saving me from my bathroom floor.”

I’m beaming at her before she even finishes her sentence, offering the clear hair ties wrapped around my pinky finger without preamble. I’m seated on the floor between her legs, her knees framing my shoulders so fast that she snorts, the first sound of amusement I’ve heard from the prickly omega. I’ma smug fucker when I grin at Barnes and Lazarus, the former glaring at me like he wants to punch me in the jaw, while the latter eases himself into his armchair, content to watch Zira fix my hair.

Chapter 3

Zira

I don’t know why I offered to do Alek’s hair, the massive Viking that is now positioned between my legs, his white-blond hair cascading over my thighs. Maybe it was my perfectionist streak, or perhaps it was the way I was worried for his hair follicles if he kept pulling on the well-kept and healthy strands of hair, but the words were out of my mouth before I could even consider the outcome. Such as having to scramble with the hoodie to ensure all of my important bits were covered while the large man took up space between my knees.

“Do you want anything specific done? And do you have a comb or a brush?” I ask, rolling my shoulders back and deciding to suck up the regret for asking if he needed help. Instead, I put my energy into fixing his hair. Seems better than remaining angry at the two other alphas in the room that are setting me on edge with their bergamot and incense and pink pepper and pear scents that I remember mingled together at the hospital all those weeks ago, ignoring their intense stares while I bundle Alek’s hair into my hands.

“I’ll get it,” Barnes mutters, standing from his seat and walking toward the entry table, opening a drawer and retrieving exactly what I’ve asked for. Seeing my questioning look, Barnes shrugs with a twitch of his lips. “We keep them everywhere, because you never know when Alek needs one.”

“Came in handy now, didn’t it?” the man between my legs rumbles teasingly, his body vibrating against my knees and setting off strange fireworks in my stomach. Because, as pissed as I am, and as wary around men I have become, I have eyes that work perfectly fine. These men are stunning, really.A visually impaired person could see how gorgeous they are, and I comfort myself with that knowledge while I accidentally perfume slightly, releasing my sweet scent into the room with three alphas I don’t really know.

Shaking my head and wondering, not for the first time, how the hell I’ve managed to find myself in this situation, I accept the items from Barnes with an awkward smile before focusing on Alek’s head of pretty, pale-blond hair. I’m careful as I untangle the strands, picking out the knots while I ignore the way my perfume thickens and sweetens, hoping it goes ignored by the men, too.

I must look as uncomfortable as I feel, because not one of them even teases the idea that they can smell the way my body is betraying me. Hell, I’m surprised I can even manage a leak of my scent after the hell those five days brought upon me.

“So,” I mutter, clearing my throat as I run my hands through Alek’s surprisingly soft hair. “I don’t suppose you brought anything of mine here when you ab—”

“We didn’t abduct you,” Laz reminds me with a tolerance I’ve never seen before. Not even from Mom, who’s the most patient person I know. I mean, a beta raising an omega? You’d have to master the art of patience.

“-ducted me? Like clothes, maybe?” I continue on as though he hadn’t spoken, because he’s the biggest culprit between him and Barnes. The night Mom was rushed into hospital was the night I met Lazarus Sharpe. He was sweet, stayed with me up until I demanded he and Barnes leave. It was the night he decided to pay a hefty amount of money on a woman he didn’t know for reasons I’m still not entirely sure about.

Barnes clears his throat before he says, “I found a duffle bag and put some things in there. Figured you’d want something other than the towel we found you in.”

I nod, feeling my cheeks heat, knowing the state theyfound me in. I dread to think of what Barnes thought when he entered my nest in order to gather my clothing. I should be angry that he dared step a foot in there at all, given that nests are pretty damn sacred to omegas. Sadly, my nest isn’t all it should be. It’s barely a nest, in all honesty. With the little amount of money I’ve been making before North Five, and the money I am making that’s going toward paying bills and the debt I now owe to Barnes’s pack, I haven’t had anything spare to make my nest an actual nest. It’s the only place I can go for my heats, though, and it no doubt stinks of sex, desperation, and stress. I’m going to have to clean everything in there before I can sleep in there without issue again.

When the silence stretches on between us, my fingers still expertly filtering through Alek’s hair, I grow uncomfy and awkward once more, so I ask, “Mom called you?”

Barnes nods, leaning forward in his chair as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Right after you ended the call between us. We raced right here. Thankfully, I’d just finished work and Alek came to pick me up since I left my car at home.”

“Huh,” I mutter, finally untangling the last of the knots in Alek’s hair and scratching my nails over his scalp to release the tension his previous braids put on his head. I’m about to open my mouth, to ask more questions to fill the weird silence, when a funny rattling sound breaks through the tension in the living room. The sound is deep, a vibration that carries a baritone so low that I can feel it rattle my bones. All tension seeps from my body at the first sound, my shoulders dropping and my back relaxing enough that I no longer feel stiff as a board.

It takes me a moment to understand what I’m hearing, and when my hands pause in Alek’s hair, so does the purr that rumbles from his chest. Stunned silence follows suit, Barnes and Lazarus staring at Alek in shock. I’m no better, my wide eyesplanted on the back of the blond man’s head, my fingers still in his hair.

“Okay, so that’s never happened before,” Alek declares without an ounce of shame, and I feel him shrug. “Apparently, I can purr and it just took a head massage from the right person to wrangle it out of me. No need to look so shocked.”

“It was a very pretty purr, love,” Lazarus notes softly, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he doesn’t release it fully. It does, however, break the tension in the room and I go right back to parting Alek’s hair in the pieces I’m braiding. No sooner than I begin, so does his purr, and I’m less shocked but no less surprised than the first time. I’m more shocked by how completely at ease and comforted I feel at the sound, my body turning languid as I begin braiding a thin strip of hair on the left side of his head. It also doesn’t escape my notice that it does more than soothe me, and I beg my body to find some semblance of control, because perfuming for a man I don’t know who had the audacity to carry me from my home and drive me here in nothing but a towel is absolutely not appropriate.

Alek snickers at his packmate, then teases, “Someone certainly likes it. Is it just me, or do you guys smell banana split a little stronger now?”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, tugging on his hair a little harder, my cheeks no doubt flaming like a glowstick in the dark.

“Careful doing that, little lady,” the man currently seated between my knees warns with a hint of amusement. “Can’t ever be sure what kinks you’re tapping into when you pull someone’s hair.”

“Alek, for fuck’s sake,” Barnes groans.

“Charming as ever,” Laz blandly quips.

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