Page 22 of Pack Rivals, Part One

I drum my fingers across the surface of my desk, then slam my thumb down hard on the intercom that connects me to Mrs. Finch.

"Any messages?"

"No."

"Any phone calls?"

"Not since you last asked twenty minutes ago."

"And the flowers were delivered?"

"Yes, Mr. York."

"To the correct address? You've checked that with the courier?"

"I have and yes they were delivered to the address Connor supplied."

Connor's information is never wrong. It was the right address, just not the right damn decision. "I shouldn't have sent fucking flowers," I mumble.

Mrs. Finch tuts down the line at me. "Language!"

"Sorry," I say sheepishly, releasing the intercom button.

I sent her the biggest, most expensive flowers the shop had. I dictated a note down the line indicating my intentions to woo her and asking her to make contact.

Maybe she likes games. Maybe she wants to make me wait.

Fuck it, I can't wait.

That cute little amber-eyed thing in the gas station was an omega all along. The sweetest goddamn smelling omega I've ever had the pleasure of encountering.

Now I'm stuck behind my desk, rock hard and daydreaming about her. Daydreaming about all the things I'd like to do to her.

The rumor that swept through the ballroom last night was that the pretty little thing had fallen into heat and security had whisked her away. It had caused a stir among the alphas. Everyone wanted to know who she was and how they could reach her.

Luckily, I have the best tracker in the city in my pack. It wasn't hard for him to break into the caterer's employment files and locate the omega's address.

What if the rumors were right? What if she is in heat? What if there's already a pack of alphas there taking care of her?

I bunch my hand into a fist and slam it onto the tabletop. Not going to happen. I want this one. She's going to be mine.

Fuck flowers. Fuck coming on too strong. I'm going to go see her.

I grab my jacket, and stride from my office.

"Cancel the rest of my meetings for today," I tell Mrs. Finch as I march to the elevator and punch the call button.

"Everything all right?" she asks, peering over her spectacles at me.

"Fine and dandy." I manage a smile, which disappears as soon as I'm in the elevator and the doors close.

I pace the enclosed space and snarl when the doors open and someone from a floor below attempts to join me. His face drains white, and he steps straight out again, letting me descend the rest of the way alone.

My car's waiting in the underground car park and I jump in and speed out, leaning down hard on the horn when a pedestrian attempts to block my path.

The trip to her apartment in the shitty side of the city is a blur, over far too quickly which means I'm probably due a ticket. I don't give a shit. I screech into a space and leap out of the car, adjusting my suit and sweeping my hands through my hair. I scan the sidewalk looking for the right apartment building and my heart falters.

There are two men flanking the entrance looking every bit like the security guards they most definitely are.

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