Page 137 of Pack Rivals, Part One

We can send all the flowers and chocolates we like. We can gift her diamonds and dedicate every song on the radio to her. We can spend the next eternity saying sorry. That won't cut it, I saw the hurt in her eyes. There's no way we're winning her back like that.

When we've exhausted all our redundant ideas, Connor checks his phone and tries calling Nate. It goes straight through to voicemail and he sends Mrs. Finch a message, warning her the youngest member of our pack is on the warpath.

"She wants to know why?" Connor says, reading his message.

"Oh crap. She's going to kill us."

"No," Connor says. "That would be going easy on us. She's going to torture and then kill us."

It's probably less than we deserve.

"Tell her it's complicated," I say.

"We're only delaying the inevitable. Mrs. Finch knows everything. She'll find out what we did soon enough."

"Yeah, but I can't handle her ire right now." Connor starts typing away on his phone and I stare down at my clothes. I stink of Angel and his pack. I need to go get showered. It's not helping me think straight with their scents in my nose. It's not helping my mood either.

Neither is the omega's sweet perfume still lingering on my skin. But, as much as I'd like for it to remain on my body forever, I'm only torturing myself with it, the scent conjuring up images of her writhing in my bed in my mind. There's no way we can fix this mess before her heat is over. However she chooses to spend it, she's not spending it with us.

I'm halfway to the bathroom, shirt and pants already on the floor, when my phone buzzes.

I consider ignoring it. Connor probably confessed to Mrs. Finch. This is probably my lecture. Then again, it could be Nate.

I scramble through my pants' pockets and tug out my phone, frowning when I don't recognize the number. I stare at it, then slam my thumb down on accept.

"Hello," I bark.

"Hi ... is that Axel? Axel York?" It's the omega's cousin. After she stuck a gun in my face (twice), I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Courtney? Yes, this is Axel. What's wrong?"

I didn't ever expect to hear from this woman again. Certainly not hours after we crushed her cousin's heart right in front of her eyes. Something must be wrong and my blood runs cold with the knowledge.

"It's Bea."

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Oh fuck.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no.

I swallow, my tongue heavy in my mouth, my throat restricting. "What's happened? What's happened to Bea?"

"I-I-I-I checked her into the omega clinic, for her heat, like she wanted."

"Yes?"

"But she forgot her phone."

"Right?" I'm trying to be patient here, but my heart has stopped beating and the oxygen won't filter to my brain. She needs to move to the important bit. The reason she's calling.

"I found it–"

"What?"

"Found her phone when I got back to the condo. I don't think she knew she'd forgotten it, you know, in our rush. So I took it back to the clinic for her and then …"

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