Pack Darling Part Two

by Lola Rock

Because who needs mates? Screw destiny, fate, and all things meant-to-be. I take care of myself. And I’m done hurting.

Atlas, Finn, Hunter, and Jett are a hotter mess than a garbage barge in a volcano, and I’m not volunteering for the same hell cruise as Orion.

“Your omega’s home alone and probably tearing out his hair. That’s where you should be. Not here.” “You’re ours,” Finn growls. “Mine.”

I can hear my heart cracking. But I’ll staple that shit right back together.

I’m not listening to their words, their pity-me eyes, or their crazy fucking pheromones. I’m listening to their actions.

It’s official. Love her. Want her forever.

She’s going to hate their plan. And if they piss her off even more? I need to distance myself. Because if I have to choose between the pack or her… I choose Lilah. Every time.

Watching me the same way I watch lava cakes, Finn offers me a shard of green pottery. “Killed it for you.” “What…” I suck in a breath because holy shit. The toe-breaking toad is dead. The perfect gift. He pushes it into my palm before I can react.

Fucker probably has snake scales. I’ll pop them off one-by-one and use ‘em to make Lilah a little clutch. She needs somewhere to keep my leash.

Things that keep Finnegan Wyvern from cliff-diving into the abyss: Lilah Saunas Mating Lilah Shopping for Lilah Saunas with Lilah? Bar fights

“I know.” Hunter squeezes my fingers. “All you have to do is follow your dreams. It’s our job to convince you we’re part of them.”

They’re the frozen yogurt of alpha energy. Like, it’s good, but it’s not ice cream.

“You still wouldn’t have believed. You thought I was another omega trying to scheme my way into your money.” “We’re assholes. I’m just saying. You went to such extremes to hide from us. Give us a chance to go to the same extremes for you now that we believe the truth.” I pretend his ask doesn’t knock out my knees, hopping onto the pole and spinning. “Do your best.” “I am.” Atlas keeps watching me practice. He doesn’t blink.

“It’s okay,” he purrs. “I trust you to take care of her. Tell me if I’m not doing a good job. Tell me if I’m fucking up. There’s nothing I won’t throw away to keep my omegas safe.”

“What are we?” “House cats.” My lips fall open. “What?” “House cats,” he insists. “Kinda cranky and cuddly and we’ll fuck shit up if you leave us alone too long.”