Page 28 of This Pack of Ours

“Then you can find the bathroom yourself," she said primly, turning around and disappearing into one of the rooms.

I followed her, turning the other way. It was a small apartment, and it looked like there was only one more bedroom, a thin linen closet, and a bathroom.

I took a wild guess which was which, and opened the door to what must be Kit’s room.

I should have immediately closed the door, but I didn’t. I was morbidly curious about what kind of person the universe had decided to give my latest leash to.

It wasn’t completely tidy, but it wasn’t an Ez-level disaster either. It was painted pale blue, and the wall on the back had a pastel mural of stars and people, with a winding river from the ceiling to the floor. His bed was a queen-size futon, covered with a fluffy, sage-coloured blanket. A beanbag was stuffed in one corner, and a computer desk took up the rest of the space. Strung above it was a line of photos.

In the center was a selfie picture of an older woman—probably his mom—with Juniper and Kit smiling behind her. The rest were just of him and Juniper.

She looked different in these photos. One where she relaxed in sunglasses and a bathing suit, spread out on a picnic blanket on a lawn, with his smiling selfie face in the corner. One where she was sprawled on the couch, one leg slung over the side and flipping him the bird. One where they lay side-by-side, her tongue sticking out as his head laid on her shoulder. In that one, he was gazing up at her, his expression soft.

And in every one, her eyes were golden.

Called it. Gold packs and feral are a thing.

No wonder she was so defensive and cagey. Gold packs from the Gritch were treated like shit by most of society. I’d seen evidence of that over and over in the calls we’d been assigned as paramedics.

It went against everything I valued to treat an abused, dark-bonded omega knowing they’d be going right back to their pack. There was no legal recourse. On paper, it was illegal to assault or neglect dark-bonded gold packs, but who was going to press charges? Sure, the Institute promised to ensure they could testify free of commands, but then what? You’re stuck dark bonded to the pack for life. Restraining orders would do shit-all to protect you.

The government didn’t give a shit either. We’d responded to the raid at the Centre a while back, where the GPRE—Gold Pack and Rogue Enforcement—had rescued a bunch of gold pack omegas who were victims of experiments. They’d only done anything because it had been exposed on live TV that they’d known about it for years with no action. Even then, I doubt they would have come to the rescue if regular omegas weren’t mixed up in it, too.

I pulled the door closed, glancing over to see if she’d seen, but nothing. So I crossed to the other side of the corridor and into the bathroom. There was something bugging me about his room, though, as I peeled off my filthy clothes and put them in the bag.

It clicked as I shucked my pants off. It just looked like a regular room. There wasn’t anything in there I’d clock as a typical nest. No cosy lighting or piles of pillows. But then, what did I know about omegas and nesting? Shit all.

I turned on the shower, irritated by the pitiful water pressure. There was a knock at the door.

“I have a towel. And clothes.” Juniper’s voice came from outside. I stepped to the door and opened it. Her face reddened as she took in my naked form.

I gave her a smug smile.

She shoved a bundle of fabric into my hands and slammed the door.

I looked down with a grimace. The clothes were an oversized pink hoodie and a baggy pair of pajama pants that had cat butts printed all over them.Check meowtwas printed in cursive on the ass.

Oh no. No way in hell.

I yanked the door open again and stuck my head out.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked, brandishing the pants at her.

She was at the kitchen sink, scrubbing her face with a towel, and looked back at me. Biting her lip as she tried not to smile, she shrugged.

“We don’t have a lot of clothes for giants. You’re lucky Kit ordered those in the wrong size a few months ago.”

I glared at her for a second, and she closed her eyes, her lip twitching, before turning back around; for a second, she looked like the Juniper in Kit’s photos.

Cute.

I snorted and slammed the door closed, throwing the hideous pants on the counter and stepping into the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting on the curb around the corner from their place, texting Ez for an ETA and glaring at anyone who did a double take. Juniper had shooed me out quickly after the shower even though my instincts had been screaming at me to stay. She was gold pack, and she didn’t have any alphas to protect her. It made my skin itch just thinking about it, which made my mood darken. I shouldn’t fucking care. Ididn’tfucking care.

Most people were giving me a very wide berth. The clothes were pissing me off, not just because of the cat butts, but because they had no right being so comfortable. They also smelled of both Juniper and Kit equally, and the combination was a double-omega mindfuck drug.

Eventually our van pulled up, and Jhin opened the door, stepping out.

---