Page 39 of Saving the Pack's Omega

It was a successful meeting. We walked out of a pretty large corporate building with an officially signed contract for the Ward Security Company’s services.

But for some reason, my mind isn’t focused on that success right now.

All it can think about is a small, doe-eyed, omega with peppermint perfume. The omega that’s back at our pack house. Our omega.

I find myself driving back a bit faster than I normally would, despite the snowy road conditions.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Kane grunts as we pull through the gate of our house.

“Not used to being hungover?” Chase snickers.

Kane just lets out a deep growl, not even bothering to open his eyes at Chase’s teasing. “Fuck off.”

I pull the car into the garage, heading into the house, a feeling close to excitement at being home growing in my chest.

Shock hits me the moment I step over the threshold and into our home.

I was expecting Luna to still be upstairs sleeping, recovering from her ordeal. None of us got to bed until a ridiculous hour and I know the rest of us would still be sleeping if we could. Except for maybe Kane. He always struggles to sleep. But that’s beside the point.

The little omega is sitting in front of the stove, flipping delicious-smelling pancakes.

“Hi!” She says, waving with a spatula in her hand, spinning in the barstool to face us. “Welcome back! Brunch is almost ready, I just have one last batch of pancakes to make.”

“Oh fuck yeah!” Chase says. “This is such a good day already.”

“Are you feeling well enough to cook?” I ask, my eyes drifting down her bare legs and eyeing her bandages.

I need to help her change those later.

“Oh, yeah, thank you,” she says, shifting in her seat. “Madden got me a chair so I don’t stand on my feet too long.”

“Good,” I say with a nod.

I start setting the kitchen counter for all of us to eat. Maybe one day, we’ll actually eat our meals in the dining room, but for now, eating them here works fine.

“I’ll take these,” Madden says, picking up the full serving dishes of food after Luna takes the last of the pancakes off the griddle.

Before Luna has a chance to get off the barstool, I step over to her and carry the barstool, with her sitting in it, over to her place at the counter.

“Oh my god!” She says, reaching out a hand to rest against my chest to steady herself. My heart starts pounding at her touch. I pray to whatever god will listen she can’t feel it under her palm.

“Sorry,” I grunt. “It just looked like you were going to walk.”

“I was going to walk,” She chuckles. “It’s not like I can’t.”

I set her down, brushing a bandage on her knee. “I don’t want you to tire yourself unnecessarily. Your energy should be focused on getting better.”

A pink blush spreads across her cheeks before she nods, not meeting my eyes.

I take a step back. I don’t want to overwhelm her.

“This fucking smells delicious,” Chase groans. “I’m getting started now, I’m starving.”

“Hey, cool it,” I growl softly, standing and grabbing Luna’s plate first. “Omega eats first.”

Her eyes go wide and she immediately starts protesting. “What? No, please, it’s okay?—”

“You need to eat more,” I say firmly. I’m unable to get the way her ribs stick out far too much in her already small frame out of my head.

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