Page 2 of This Pack of Ours

She was tall, the kind of unhealthy-pale and gaunt I hadn’t seen since I’d arrived at Hawthorne Academy. There were deep bags under her eyes. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no makeup, and had on a huge, faded hoodie that screamed Gritch.

I recognized the imprint of brass knuckles in her legging pocket. Her eyebrows were pulled down in a scowl, practically radiating anger as she stomped down the path. Her eyes flicked to me, and I saw they were a brilliant gold.

Not just a grinch omega, but a gold pack, too. Omegas with golden eyes were barely considered citizens.

Our modern age had brought ‘safety’ and ‘civility’ to the existence of alphas and omegas. The Institute had all but eradicated rogue alphas, who were feral and dangerous, and they’d done it by targeting their parents; omegas.

When you perfumed as an omega, you had one year to report to the Institute and get an injection. The injection would stabilize you and ensure your alpha children would all be nice and stable—for the safety of society. However, the injection was voluntary. Fail to show up within the year, and it was too late. Your eyes would turn gold. Because you’d chosen to endanger society with your potential offspring, you were considered an outcast, not protected by the same laws that applied to other omegas.

I didn’t give a fuck about the Institute, but my grandmother had taken me the week after I perfumed so I didn’t “mess up my chances”. Gold pack omegas were low, not considered worth a regular bond to most. I’d gone along for my own reasons. Being gold pack meant you weren’t legally protected from the worst thing that could happen to an omega—a dark bond. Becoming dark bonded to a pack meant becoming their slave for life.

Gold pack omegas were a big ‘fuck you’. To society. To civility. To alphas.

Thisgold pack omega definitely had big ‘fuck you’ energy. She looked fierce. Competent. Tough. Kinda scary, actually. Like she would have been able to look my grandmother in the eyes and say, no, I’m not going to that stupid academy.

Unlike me. I’d shuffled my feet and said I’d rather not. My grandmother had scoffed and that was that.

The omega walked past me, not giving me a second glance, but hesitated as she approached the main entrance, pulling out her phone, then looking around. She started down one path, then paused again, before peering at her phone, clearly lost.

Scary or not, I couldn’t just leave her to struggle. I warred with myself before pushing through my discomfort.

“Need a hand?” I asked, giving her a small smile. My shoulders hunched with a bit of nerves. I’d worked so hard to hide my Gritch-side accent since I started here, and it was nice to let it out. She looked relieved as she turned around, but her brows bunched in suspicion when she saw me.

Her eyes were stunning, large with dark eyelashes, and I caught a whiff of her scent; sour cherries and spice. Usually omega scents soured with our mood, but hers smelled like sour cherry candies, like it wasmeantto be sour. God, that was so perfect. Another big ‘fuck you’.

Her cheeks were flushed and she gripped the strap of her backpack tightly. I’d thought she might be older than me at first glance, but now that I could see her properly, I’d put her close to my own age.

She just stared for a moment and I stared back, trying not to gawk.

I gave an awkward shrug and waved at her legs, my hands clutching the ends of my sleeves.

“Um, just… you might want to hide your weapon better. They’ll confiscate it if they see it.” Mine had been. Apparently, omegas didn’t carry weapons in Hawthorne. Then again, the dangers we faced here were less the street-assault kind and more the spiked-drink kind.

“I’ve got two,” she said flatly.

I opened my mouth, caught off guard.Two?

“Genius,” I muttered before I could stop myself. “Or maybe I’m just dumb as a stump. Never thought of that.”

Her eyebrow rose, as if she was trying to decide if I was taking the piss or not.

“You’re definitely dumb as a stump,” she finally said, her lip twitching. I laughed, half at the joke and half in relief that she’d lowered her hackles a bit. She put down her phone and folded her arms.

“I’m looking for the pack dorm rooms. 514,” she said. With her anger gone, she just sounded tired.

“They’re back that way.” I nodded over my shoulder toward the south side. I knew intimately where the pack dorms were, having visited most of them at least once.

The omega stepped closer to me, peering in the direction I’d indicated. Then, without warning, she doubled over, her fingers digging into my arm. A faint whine came from her gritted teeth, and her sharp scent swept over me, arousal prickling down my back and blood rushing to my cock. Her other hand grabbed my shirt, pulling hard enough that a button ripped off. Fuck, that roughness was hot. Her scent was sharp in my nose, and I found myself leaning in, hoping that maybe she’d push me back to the bench and look at me with that furious stare as she ripped the rest of my top off.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my hand coming up to cover my nose. My head was spinning as I took a step backward, afraid of the intensity of my reaction. I’d never felt something so potent.

“Shit,” she panted. “S—Sorry.”

“It happens,” I said, readjusting my glasses on my scorching face. Thank god she’d untucked my shirt. It hid the rock-hard erection in my fancy dress pants. I might actually die if she saw that.

She was near heat, that much was clear.Reallynear. And looking for an alpha’s dorm.

“You here for heat helpers?” I guessed.

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