Page 16 of Pack’s Pledge

She smiled, not looking at me, and my cock twitched against my thigh as I remembered the way they’d looked together on the dancefloor. I’d been hard as steel by the time they’d kissed, hadn’t been able to tear my hungry eyes from them as their lips brushed, then their tongues. It was one of the things that still didn’t make sense to me, even years since my presentation–that watching my omega kiss someone else could be such a turn-on–but that was just part of the arrangement, I guessed. Biology, or evolution, orfate, or whatever.

“How did you meet him?”

“Hmm?” I asked.

“Beau,” she clarified. Of course. “And Adrian, too. But… a male omega. There has to be a story there.”

“Not really,” I said, shrugging. The waiter approached again, depositing two tiny, elaborate amuse bouche. We should have gotten pizza or something. This alpha bullshit… I groaned internally. He nodded and left, and I looked up to see Britt waiting expectantly. “It’s all very boring, actually. He registered at the Heat Center, and so did I, and so did Adrian. We got assigned to each other for a heat, and then, well…”

“Happily ever after.” Britt smiled.

“No,” I said, firmly. A little too loud, based on her reaction: widened eyes that looked up at me in surprise. But this was important to say, and now was as good a time as any. “We’re not like that. Beau’s an omega, yes. And he’souromega, mine and Adrian’s, but… we’re not. Romantic, like that.”

I took a sip of wine, hiding behind my glass.

“So, what, you’re… fuck buddies?” she said, glancing around at our elegant surroundings. I had to smile. We should have gotten pizza, but it was cute to see her here, looking so much like the girl I’d known, and yet so different, too, with her dark makeup and self-confidence.

“We’re roommates,” I explained. “And one of our roommates has a medical condition that we help him with.”

Britt’s eyes got even wider, the gray sparkling as her smile grew incredulous. “You’re right,” she said. “Youaren’tromantic.” She laughed. “That’s… theleastromantic way I’ve heard anyone describe a pack, and I work at Ardor, I hear a lot.”

My heart leapt in my chest.She understood.It was too early to say the words that were begging to be released from my heart–that it was her, it was her, it had always been her, it was always supposed to be the two of us–but, as the conversation shifted, and we relaxed into our meal and our wine and our company, it felt… almost comfortable.

Almost like it always had.

After all, I’d withheld my feelings from her then, too, hadn’t I?

* * *

Dinner was delicious–ofcourse it was, Beau had great taste–and as our desserts were served, I could tell, even without any pheromones or scents to rely on, that Britt was feeling more comfortable, too.

“Mmm,” she said, her lips wrapped around her spoon to get the last of her pot de crème. She’d never looked likethatwhen we were teens. Or maybe she had, and I’d been too busy staring at her boobs to notice anything more subtle.

And then I’d presented, of course, and whatever feeble attempts my teenage brain had made to deciphersubtletyhad gone out the window, awash on a tide of hormones that drowned out everything else.The Bad Years, always capitalized in my mind, when I’d been so ashamed of and confused by my new status that I’d closed everyone out. Even Britt, my oldest, best friend. My first love.

I paid the check while she was in the bathroom. I had come to understand a few things about being an alpha over the past dozen years, and knew my pride would not allow me to split, not even for Britt. She put up less of a fight than I thought she might, the blush on her smooth cheeks shooting straight up my spine to my hindbrain. The logical part of my psyche wasn’t unaffected, either. Did I have a chance? Or was it just that she was a bartender? How many shifts of work at that godawful club would it take for her to pay for half a meal here? That way lay madness–could I anonymously give her a raise? A bonus? Could I start a new business and make her the president without her knowing? Could I invent a conveniently-dead great aunt from whom she could inherit a fortune?–so I focused my instincts instead on helping her down the steps of the restaurant, opening the door of my stupid, ostentatious car.

One thing was certain: even if I wasn’t certain how Britt felt about me, I was sure of myself.

I wanted her.

As a man, and as an alpha.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Britt

Dinner with Conall was a surprise.

I’d half-thought that he’d be the shy, nerdy boy of my high school fantasies, and I’d half-thought he would be the untouchable, impossibly handsome alpha I’d seen at the club and at the bar, and it turned out, I was right.

He was both.

He’d been successful, had taken his interest in computers and turned it into a billion-dollar company, as I’d always known he would. But he wasn’t the power-player alpha of popular imagination, with a pack of subordinates trailing him around the office and a matching pack at home. After all, their pack had Beau, didn’t it, and he was the farthest thing from the stereotypical trophy omega I could imagine.

It was Beau–and Adrian–that had my heart beating hard in my chest as dinner drew to an end.

I was wearing their gifts.

---