Page 44 of Pack Rivals, Part One

I wonder if slow is a word either Silver Boston or Axel York understand.

11

Angel

I hearSilver's car pull up sometime before midnight and I flip back the blind in my office and over the distance try to read his body language. He's not as easy to read as Hardy. All that training and drilling in the military means the man's ability to keep a neutral face is renowned. If he doesn't want you to know he's pissed, if he doesn't want you to know he's elated, you're going to have a tough time working it out.

He's my packmate though. I knew him before that stint in the force and I know his tells. The slight drop in his shoulders when he's disappointed. The way his fingers twitch when he's angry. The slight bounce in his stride when he's happy.

Tonight, the signals are all mixed. Plus, he's making no attempts to hide it. I can feel it all buzzing in the bond between us.

I flick off my desk lamp and close my laptop. I meet Hardy in the hallway, both of us heading to meet our packmate.

"What you thinking?" Hardy asks me, feeling exactly what I'm feeling in our bonds.

"No fucking idea," I say, smoothing my hand through my beard.

We wait for Silver by the garage door. He comes stomping through, flinging his keys onto the counter and heading for the fridge.

He tugs out a bottle of beer, then hesitates and ducks back into the mellow light and fetches out two more. He chucks one to me and one to Hardy.

"Fuck," Hardy mumbles, "did you screw up?"

But I know Silver. Screwing up isn't a phrase that exists in his vocabulary. It's why he's so damn good at his job. It's why our pack runs the best security company in the city.

"I didn't screw up, dickhead," Silver snaps, trudging through to the lounge, Hardy and I trailing after him. He drops down onto a couch and we both follow his example.

"It didn't go well, though," I ask carefully.

"It was going just fine – managed to convince the little thing to come to dinner with me – but then Axel showed up."

Fucking, Axel. That man shows up everywhere, like a bad smell you can never be rid of.

"Did you send him on his way?" Hardy asks with a growl.

Silver sinks further into his chair. For a fleeting moment, I'm reminded of the boy he used to be – the sulky teenager we had to bully to come out with us.

"Couldn't. Not with the omega there all wide-eyed and doe-like. I'm not going to worm my way into her good books if I pound another man silly on our first date."

"I don't know," Hardy says with a grin, "some omegas like that stuff."

"Not this one." Silver rips the label off his beer bottle and crushes it in his fist. "It's all new to her. You can see it in her eyes how lost she is, how confused. And fuck me, her scent, is like a frigging fairground ride. Up and down, forward and backward. She has no fucking control."

Hardy whistles. "A newly presented omega. I'm not surprised. Fuck, that ride is going to be wild."

"What happened?" I ask, not wanting to be diverted onto that track when there's Axel to consider. "With Axel."

"He ended up tagging along for dinner."

Hardy bursts into laughter, slapping his thigh and sinking back into the couch cushions. "The two of you and the omega? Sounds cozy as hell."

"Not just us. Her aunt and cousin too."

This makes Hardy laugh all the harder. "Some smooth operator you turned out to be. Dinner with her extended family and another alpha too."

"Trust me, this one needs to be pulled along slowly and gently. Otherwise, she'll bolt like a colt slapped on its rear."

Hardy's not buying that. He swipes at tears rolling down his cheeks and clutches his belly.

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