Page 1 of Pack Favero

Prologue

Barnes

Peering down at my cell once more, hoping to find a response from a certain soft, shy, and painfully sweet omega, I frown at my screen when I find my notifications blank. No waiting text, no missed call, nothing. Which is very unlike Zira Favero, the punctual and ever-stressed woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking of since the moment I met her all those months ago at the library.

There she’d been, sitting behind the hefty wooden desk, with her copper hair twirled into a pretty bun at the nape of her neck and wearing a burnt-orange chiffon shirt to match. With her chin in her hand and her eyes on her monitor screen, she was completely oblivious to my presence. I’m sure I counted half of her freckles that cover her soft features before she noticed I was standing before her, waiting, watching, and content to stare while she bit into her full lower lip as she peered hard at her computer screen. I still replay the gasp she released when I tapped my fingers on the surface of the desk, pale-green eyes peering up at me in shock as though I hadn’t been standing there for ten minutes already. I Googled the exact shade of her eye color the moment I put in my request for a book I’ve been searching for as soon as I was tucked away in my classroom. Celadon. A grayish-green shade that looks startlingly stunning in a face equally as beautiful.

A beautiful face that had looked falsely relaxed when I last saw her, the sour notes in her usually soft-and-creamy banana-split scent revealing that her emotions weren’t quite lining up with the words that had left her mouth.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine. Just go to your party andhave fun, okay? I’ll still be here when it ends, and we’ll talk then. You’re already late, Barnes,” she’d pushed, exasperated and tired, yet smiling softly at me as though I weren’t an alpha and couldn’t scent the change in her.

“If you’re fine, I’m the king of the world destined to sink on the next ship to hit an iceberg. Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded softly, tucking her hair behind her ear, a new development she has started to allow. I was pushing my luck at the time, my plan to go slow once I realized just how man-skittish she is flying out of the window as soon as I caught the sour notes of her scent. If I thought I wouldn’t scare the shit out of her, I would have pulled her into a hug that I probably needed more than she did. As it was, I was pushed out of her small apartment she shares with her sick mom, and I left to do as I was told.

I regret not pushing now, because my notifications still remain blank and I don’t much like it.

Frowning down at my cell, I type out another text to the elusive omega, a ball of worry growing in my chest despite the brief conversation that made my pack and me late to this charity benefit.

BARNES:I’ve been at this event for two hours already, and still no reply. Throw me a bone, Freckles. I know you’re not okay, but I can’t do anything to fix it if I don’t know what it is.

A sigh of relief escapes me when I see the message go through asdeliveredseconds before it’s noted asread. I’m staring at those bubbles like they’re my sole reason for existing, and frustration only builds the longer I watch them bounce around with an impending reply.

I’m staring so hard at my phone that Lazarus manages to take me by complete surprise when he suddenly asks frombehind me, “Stare any harder at that little rectangle and I’m sure it has a chance of exploding.”

I flinch so hard that I damn near drop the thing, turning my head to raise an eyebrow at the man I consider a brother. “We’ve discussed your loitering ways, Laz.”

“I wasn’t loitering, Champ. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past—” he checks his watch, pausing his smooth English accent for only a moment before he continues, “—seven minutes.”

I frown. “You have?”

He nods with a patient smirk, crossing his arms over his pale-gray suit as he leans against the wall beside me. “Seems you were a little lost in whatever has captivated your attention on the little device of yours. Waiting on a reply from someone important?”

Rolling my eyes, I glance down at my phone, seeing the bubbles still bouncing with an impending reply I’m yet to receive, and sigh. “You already know I am.”

The smile on Laz’s face remains as he asks, “When do you think we’ll finally be allowed to meet this unicorn who’s finally snagged your attention?”

I shrug, a pinch of apprehension squeezing my chest. It’s not that I don’t want to introduce them. I do. I’m simply trying to get Zira to warm up to me before adding four more alphas to the mix. As much as I know they’ll all love her, she’s skittish around the male populace for reasons she still hasn’t shared with me, and I’d hate to scare her off before I’ve really had a chance to get to know her and vice versa. As soon as I think she can handle my pack, then I’ll introduce them. For now, I’d prefer to get her comfortable with one of us, bettering our chances that the omega won’t skitter away, afraid and overwhelmed.

“I know that look enough to read between the lines. No need to explain to me,” Laz chuckles, not at all sounding hurt,unlike our packmate and resident pain in the ass, Alek. The last time he begged to meet the stranger who smells like his favorite dessert, I refused, and I swear he had a Viking-sized tantrum and didn’t speak to me for two days.

“I will when the time is right,” I mutter once more, repeating my argument for the hundredth time and feeling shit for doing so. After all, it’s the first time I’ve ever kept a secret from the guys. Although, can it truly be considered a secret if they know I’m speaking to someone? Either way, this is a first for us all. Since we all usually date the same woman, finding it easier for the whole pack, it’s thrown them all up that I’ve met a new woman and I’m keeping her to myself for the time being.

Laz nods and peers out into the opulent ballroom, and I do the same, slipping my hands into my pockets in hopes that I might feel my cell vibrate with a text. Together, we watch the crowd mingle, spy Alek’s viper of an aunt receiving an earful from one of her alphas, and smile at Meemaw’s secretive grin she shares with her two alphas that peer down at her lovingly. A sharp ache of envy pierces my gut at that look, wishing for the same looks and interactions from a copper-haired beauty that smells like banana split with whipped cream, caramel sauce, and a perfect little cherry on top.

Swallowing the saliva that pools in my mouth at the mere thought of Zira Favero and her addictive scent, I side-eye Lazarus and mutter, “I don’t plan on keeping her to myself. I have a reason for doing it this way. Just trust me and it’ll all be worth it.”

Laz nods slowly with that ever-present smile that exudes patience and compassion. “I know. I’ll always trust you, Champ.”

With a deep sigh, I nod and relax against the wall, content to watch partiers and patrons and other wealthy folk while I continue to wait for a reply.

Eventually my phone vibrates and I waste no timefishing it from my pocket and checking my notifications. My heart practically soars when I see Zira’s name, and I open our messages and read her reply… which takes less than a second.

ZIRA:Talk later.

Frowning at my cell now, I go to write out a reply, feeling the bluntness of her words as though she spoke them to me in my ear. But then Laz says, “Not to be that person, mate, but perhaps give her some space. If that frown you're wearing is anything to consider, you might be broaching on the territory we outsiders would call ‘annoying.’ Spend some time being present with us for an hour more and I’ll drive you to her myself if you’re still unsatisfied.”

I clench my jaw, reading those two measly words over three more times before nodding and sighing, slipping my cell back in my pocket. “Sure. Thanks, Laz.”

“Anything for you, love,” he chuckles, clipping me with a brotherly clap to the back before leaving me to my strange mood. I watch as he approaches Meemaw with a charm-oozing smile that makes me shake my head, my lips twitching when Alek’s grandmother throws her head back with a blush and a laugh I can hear over the classical music strumming through the harp on stage.

---