Page 48 of Pack Rivals, Part One

"No, not pregnant," I say, my voice low, my nostrils flaring as I breathe her in.

"Then what?"

"Nearing heat," Hardy growls.

A red color sweeps immediately over her cheeks. "Possibly not. The doctor says my hormones are all over the show. I have to go to the clinic tomorrow. They're going to run some more tests."

"I'll drive you there," Silver tells her.

"No, it's okay. My cousin’s going to come with me." She lifts her menu, then lowers it again. "She's promised to answer some of my questions. It feels as if there is so much I don't know."

"Really?" I motion to a waiter. "Then ask us."

Her cheeks sizzle some more. "I'm not sure they're the kind of questions I should be asking you guys."

Hardy chuckles and leans in closer to her. "Those kinds of questions, huh? They sound fun. Ask away."

She hesitates, her tongue working behind her teeth as if she's tempted, but then the waiter is there with his iPad. "Four eggs benedict and mimosas all round," I order.

"I think I'm going to eat better in this twenty-four hours than I ever have before," she mutters, handing her untouched menu to the waiter.

"The ex-boyfriend never took you anywhere nice to eat?" Silver says. She shakes her head.

"There's an ex-boyfriend?" I ask.

"One I don't want to talk about."

"Then let's answer those questions of yours, sweetheart," Hardy says, with a wicked smile.

She fidgets on her seat, then stills as a wicked smile of her own dawns across her face.

"Why don't you have an omega? Your pack's been together ten years, right?"

"Does every pack have to have an omega?" I ask her.

"You tell me. I'm the novice. But I thought an omega slave was what every alpha desired."

I almost spit out the water I'm sipping. Even Hardy turns green, the usual humor lost from his face.

"An omegaslave? What the hell?"

"Oh, come on," she says, not backing down. "Isn't that what alphas want? A little omega pet to keep at home, under their control and answering their commands."

I press my napkin against my mouth, then meet her gaze with my own, serious. "Is that what you think we want? Or is that what you want, Omega?"

The little thing shivers at my tone and at that word.

Her mouth opens and closes again.

She's lost to her omega instincts. She has no fucking clue what she wants. Although I'm pretty sure she wants us, given all the wet little signals in her scent.

"We do want an omega for our pack. And we spent a long time looking for one. We never found the right woman."

"We gave up looking," Silver says.

"Speak for yourself," Hardy mutters.

"But," I say, ignoring my packmates and keeping my attention locked on the little omega sitting opposite me, "there's a difference, you know, between what you can want in the bedroom and what you can want everywhere else."

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