Page 116 of Pack Rivals, Part One

"One of my men took another look at the footage this morning. Confirmed what Johnson said. No one suspicious."

We watch the video on his screen. We see Bea arrive home from work and then leave an hour later with Axel York. That bit of footage makes us both growl but we suppress it and focus back on the film. The old man from the apartment below Bea's leaves and returns three quarters of an hour later. A delivery man is beeped in but leaves his parcel by the door. A couple let themselves in and a while later leave again. And the mom on the top floor pops out for pizza.

Other than that, nothing.

No men in ski masks and leather gloves. Hell, not even men.

"Could they have broken in around the back?"

We lock up the omega's apartment and go to check it out. No signs of a broken entrance and the door is heavy duty.

"This doesn't make sense," I mutter, kicking a can down the alley. I thought we'd solve this easily – or at least Silver would. Then I'd head down there with a baseball bat and send a message to whatever scumbag has their eye on our girl.

"It does. It means we're dealing with someone smart and we're going to have to up our vigilance."

* * *

We head backto our Pack house and Silver locks himself in his office, making enquiries and looking up shit. I call our real estate manager and insist she drop the job she's working on and send me pictures and details of all the suitable apartments in the city. The closer to us better.

Then I lie out on a couch and scroll through them all. I dismiss half of them right off the bat. Far too soulless for an omega. All sharp edges and hard surface. She needs soft, warm comfort – thick carpet rugs, wide sofas and sinkable beds. Plenty of places to be rutted.

I stare at several photos of living rooms and bedrooms imagining just what I'd like to do with the little omega in those rooms.

I never knew what they meant by house porn. Now I do.

Finally, I narrow it down to three and walk through the house in search of Angel. He's in front of his laptop, looking through numbers.

"It's Saturday," I remind him. Not that that's ever made a difference with Angel.

"I needed distraction."

"From what?"

"From the thought of her in his bed."

"She's not in his bed, man. I told you, she's just staying there."

His face darkens. "You don't know Axel like I do."

"I know him well enough." I lean against his desk. "Anyway, I think I've found a solution to that particular problem. Somewhere else for her to live."

I pass him over the phone and let him flick through the details of the three apartments.

"You know she'll never consent to let us pay for one of these places," Angel mutters.

"Thought you could come up with one of your clever stories, though. A way to convince her it isn't costing us a small fortune." His thumb hovers over a stylized photo of one of the bedrooms. King-sized bed. Layers of cushions and blankets. Perfect place for nesting down. "Imagine rutting her there, man," I whisper. His scent spikes. He's imagining it all right.

"We'll tell her it's a family property. One that belonged to your great aunt – the one who passed recently." I smile. "We haven't gotten around to selling it yet and it's just sitting there empty. She'd be doing us a favor moving in. Prevent squatters."

I laugh. "You're a genius, man. I'm going to drive over there now."

"Axel will never let you see her."

"Let him try to stop me." I wink at him and hop in my jeep.

Our place is based out on the outskirts of the city. We wanted land and space.

Axel's pack live up the top of some tower, like a bunch of frightened lords surveying their people, scared any moment someone's going to topple them from their perch.

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