Page 47 of Pack Rivals, Part One

Her eyes are locked on the water, shimmering with radiance as they soak up that view.

"Wow," she mutters.

"Told you this place was magical," Silver tells her, leaning in and taking a sneaky gulp of her scent. Lucky fucking bastard.

Not that I need to be that close to grab my fix. Even in the still air, it finds its way to my nostrils. Sweet and sticky and sinful.

Oh hell.

"This is Hardy," Silver says, gesturing to our packmate. She has to tip her head right back to take him in and he offers her one of his smoldering looks, taking her free hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

She squeaks in response, her scent spinning cartwheels and I understand what Silver was telling us last night.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," Hardy growls, pulling out a chair for her to sit.

"Nice to meet you too."

"And this is Angel," Silver continues, pointing my way and dropping into the seat beside her.

Smiling, her head turns, and her gaze swings my way. Her eyes lock with mine and she starts, recognition flashing through her eyes, then a crease forming between her eyebrows.

I frown too.

"Hello," I say a second time, lowering into my chair.

Confusion flickers across her features for barely a second and then the smile returns to her face. Whatever thought had meandered through her mind, has been dismissed.

"Hi." She takes the napkin from the table top in front of her and spreads it across her knees. Then she seems to decide this is unnecessary, folds it in two and returns it to the table.

She's nervous. It's clear in her body language and in her scent. Not surprising. Any omega, newly presented or not, would find the presence of three alphas together daunting. But there's something else in her scent too. Excitement. And that gives me encouragement.

Does she like what she sees?

"So you're the packmates?" she says.

I smile. "And you are the omega."

Her pupils dilate at the sound of that word on my alpha tongue and it's clear she has little ability to control her omega instincts. It's tantalizing. Everyone is well practiced, well trained these days. All of us keeping a lid on our baser instincts and desires. This girl is practically feral. If we wanted, I'm sure we could have her spread out on the table begging us to take her.

Jesus fucking Christ. The idea has me hard in my pants. But I'm not that type of alpha, not one to take advantage. There are other instincts churning in my gut, just as strong as the one that wants to claim and rut and knot. The instinct to protect, to care, to worship.

"It's really hard to wrap my head around it," she says, fiddling with the edges of the napkin. "I can't quite contemplate the idea that I'm an omega."

"Silver here says you were pretty insistent that you weren't the first time you met."

"Yep," she glances at him with a sheepish look, "and I woke up again this morning convinced this was all some weird-assed dream."

"I remember presenting," I say, pouring her a glass of water from the bottle I ordered earlier, "back in high school. I knew it was coming. My brother was an alpha. My dad and all my uncles. It was still a shock. The first time I breathed in other scents and my body came alive, the first time I realized I could read people's emotions through their scents, it seemed so incredible, like it couldn't be real." She nods her head. "It must be a million times harder when you weren't expecting it, when you believed you were something else."

She stares at me and then takes a long gulp of water.

"What would you like for breakfast, sweetheart?" Hardy asks her, studying the menu.

"I should be stuffed silly after yesterday's meal," she says, "but I'm ravenous."

I exchange glances with my packmates, something she catches us doing.

"What? I'm not pregnant, okay? Why does everyone keep insinuating that?"

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