Page 41 of Saving the Pack's Omega

Melodramatic? Maybe.

But fuck, I can’t get those thoughts out of my head.

“How was your work?” she asks softly, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“Work was good,” Kane answers. “We managed to get a really lucrative commercial deal. We’ll set up security systems for the entire building. Our main focus up until now has been residential properties, so this is a big step up for us.”

“That sounds really good,” she says, flashing him a sweet smile.

The rest of them make idle chatter as we all finish our meals.

“Are you done?” I ask Luna, when the only food that’s left is the food on her plate.

“Oh, I--” the panic on her face is obvious to anyone with eyes.

I reach out to cup her cheek and she flinches before I’m able to touch her as if she’s expecting me to strike her.

Fucking hell.

I pull back my hand, gripping the back of her barstool instead.

“Tell me why you’re upset,” I say, doing my best to keep the anger at her past locked away, keeping my tone soft. “I’m not the best at this sort of thing so you’re going to have to tell me how you feel.”

The rest of the pack are all silent, watching our interaction.

“I—I don’t want to waste food,” she says, her eyes still downcast.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I say. “If you’re full, you’re full. I gave you a lot.” A lot more than I probably should have, but all I could think about was how hungry she must have been growing up. “It’s not a crime to throw away food.”

“You—you’re not going to be upset?” she asks. “I’m not wasting money?”

“No, and even if you were wasting money, we have more than enough for you to do with what you like.”

She bites the inside of her cheek before nodding.

“Now,” I say, “Are you done?”

“Yes,” she says.

“I can finish your plate if you want,” Chase says.

She flashes him a grateful smile as he takes her plate and starts shoveling food into his mouth.

“You’re on cleaning duty, Chase,” I say.

He gives me a two-finger salute. “Yes sir.”

I stand, looking down at Luna, who’s glancing up at me in uncertainty.

“Your bandages need changing,” I say.

“Oh, if you can show me where the things I need are I can take care of it myself?—”

“No. Let me help you.” I take a deep breath, trying to relax so I stop scaring her. “Please.”

“O—Okay. Thank you.”

I grab the ointment Charlotte left from one of the kitchen drawers and lift her up into my arms before heading upstairs.

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