Page 7 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

Her eyebrows lift. “Wait, yourexex? As in the one who ghosted you after you offered him a bond, made you mentally unhinged for nine straight months, and forced me to confiscate your phone for a week solid not long after you started working here just so you’d stop sending him playlists titled‘Songs to Regret Ghosting Me To’?”

“Jeez. When you say it like that, you make it sound sodramatic.”

“That’s because itwas.” She narrows her eyes. “Is this the same alpha who said he wasn’t ready for something serious? You’re telling me thathe’spart of a bonded pack?”

“Technically, he didn’t actually tell methat he wasn’t ready for something serious. He implied it. Through his silence.”

“Wow. And this is the same guy who made you start nesting out of spite?”

“You know, you don’t keep having to list all of these examples,” I glare at her. “Anyway, that wasn’tnesting. That was a temporary lapse in sanity, and I will not be taking questions.”

“Wait, wait. Just to confirm: is he the one with the jawline and the dark hair and the PTSD eyes?”

I sigh, then nod. “Unfortunately.”

Rachel goes completely still; not blinking, not breathing.

Then she explodes.

“This is even better than I thought!” she announces, practically beaming from ear to ear. “We’ve got history, heartbreak, pheromone tension, maybe a hate-knot—”

“Stop!” I cut in, almost gagging at the thought. “Ew,gross. You need to stop.”

“I don't need to stop, but I needyoutolean in. Friday, 12 p.m. Some overpriced brunch place downtown—details are all on the app for you. You’re going.”

“I’m not dating Wesley Knight and his pack!” I hiss. “I’d rather go into heat in a packed elevator.”

“Okay, but imagine the article.”

“Honestly, my imagination is terrible.”

“Mine isn't. I can see it now:Scented Ruined My Life and Also Maybe Rekindled My Bond With My Ex.”

“No.”

“An Omega’s Guide to Losing Her Dignity.”

“Rachel.”

“How to Emotionally Terrorize a Pack Using Only Pheromones and Passive Aggression.”

I groan. “This feels illegal.”

“Thisisillegal—at least it is if you work in HR. Luckily for us, we don’t believe in HR.”

My phone pings again, and I scowl as I glance at it. It’s just my friends in our group chat, probably arguing about dinner plans or sending me cursed memes, but I can’t even look.

I feel like I’m being watched. Or scented. Orset up.

I open my mouth to tell Rachel no. That I can’t do this, that Iwon’t.

But then I think abouthim.

Wes, with his perfect scowl and emotionally constipated silence. Wes, who scented my body from head to toe and then ghosted me so hard I thought he’d been kidnapped by pheromone-hating cultists. Wes, who vanished without a text, a call, not even a ‘lol my bad.’

The silence broke me. I waited. I spiraled. I made excuses. I lied to my friends and told them he was busy. I thought maybe he’d lost his phone, or his memory, or his entiregoddamn mind. I thought that maybe he was scared; and then, after a little while longer, I started to think that maybeIhad done something wrong.

But then I stopped waiting.

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