Page 71 of Saving the Pack's Omega

I freeze.

There’s never been a woman in the pack house, at least not since I’ve been here.

I’m too far away to tell what she’s saying, so I still have no clue who she could possibly be.

I know I should probably just go back into the study or into my room and not snoop, but I can’t help it. My feet, which still have a couple of bandages on them, are silent as I creep down the stairs and through the kitchen, towards the front of the house.

I hear the deep timbre of Archer’s voice, but I can’t hear what he’s saying, even though I’m in the hallway near the foyer. It’s like he’s trying his best to keep his voice down.

When I peek around the corner to try and see what’s happening, I’m hit by the sharp scent of vanilla extract, but the kind of vanilla extract that’s still mostly alcohol. The anger she’s feeling is obvious in the spicy notes of her scent.

This visitor is an omega.

And she’s stunning.

She’s wearing clothes that aren’t at all fit for the weather, including sky-high stilettos and a shirt that shows off her ample cleavage. The only thing she’s wearing that gives some indication of the snow on the ground outside is the cropped puffer jacket she’s wearing, but even then, it’s tailored in a way that doesn’t swallow her shapely form.

I see her face and even with her expression twisted in irritation, it’s obvious her makeup is on point.

She takes a step closer to Archer, reaching out and touching the collar of his black, button-up shirt. Archer doesn’t give any indication that he’s entertaining her advances—his body is stiff and his hands are fisted by his sides—but I still don’t see any of that.

All I see is another omega touching my alpha in my home.

I don’t even have the brain power to process that I thought of Archer as my alpha or the pack house as my home.

A soft whine escapes from the back of my throat before I can stop it.

The angry omega’s head jerks in my direction, and even though I try and hide, I still know she’s seen me.

“Who the fuck is that, Archer?”

“I told you, Brandy, if you don’t have anything urgent, then you have to leave,” Archer growls.

My chest tightens as my heart beats out of my chest.

Brandy.

He knows her name.

God, I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“No, I don’t think I will,” she says. “Whoever you are, stop hiding behind the corner like a little bitch, and let me see you.”

“That’s it, get the fuck out of my house!”

“Get your fucking hand off of me or I’m telling my father.”

I peek out again to see Archer gripping Brandy’s upper arm. The anger in his expression and the dominance that’s thick in the air has my knees growing weak. Even though I know Archer would never do anything to hurt me, alpha anger has never meant good things for me, in the past.

But still, I don’t want Archer to get in trouble, so I step out from where I’m hiding. I clasp my hands in front of me to keep them from trembling.

“You—you can let her go,” I stutter, making my way towards them. The tile of the foyer is cold beneath my feet.

It’s no surprise that Archer only lets her go when she stops trying to get further into the house and not when I told him he could let her go.

“Go back upstairs, Luna,” Archer says, his voice deep with the restraint of trying to keep himself calm.

“Oh, so your name is Luna,” Brandy says, eyeing me up and down. Her gaze seems to snag on the dress I’m wearing.

---