Page 107 of Pack Plus One

“We’ll take care of it,” Mason says, shooting me a warning look. “Consider it handled.”

“Of course we will,” I mutter under my breath. “Because we don’t have anything more important to do, like finding our runaway omega.”

The manager shrugs, already halfway to the stairwell. “Your girlfriend, your problem. Anyway, good luck finding her. That one’s got a stubborn streak wider than the interstate.”

I can’t argue with that assessment. Leah’s stubborn streak is legendary—and one of the things we all find irresistible about her, though I’m not about to admit that to Mr. Dripping Sink.

I pull out my phone and send Leah another text:

We need to talk. You misunderstood everything. Please call us.

It joins the many others I’ve sent since dawn, all unread, all unanswered.

We head down the corridor to Mrs. Finley’s, where a brass knocker shaped like a cat adorns the door. Liam is about to use it when I stop him.

“Let me handle this,” I say. “Elderly ladies love me.”

Caleb snorts and crosses his arms over his chest in a pose that screams “agitated alpha about to commit property damage.” Not exactly the vibe we want to present to an ally.

I knock, plastering on my most charming smile.

Mrs. Finley answers the door in a floral robe, a mug of tea in one hand and a suspicious glare that suggests she’s been waiting for this confrontation.

“Oh dear,” she says, not sounding the least bit surprised. “She’s run off again, hasn’t she?”

I blink, momentarily thrown by her response. “Uh…yeah…”

She takes a deliberate sip of her tea. Her gaze travels over the four of us with undisguised judgment. “Four alphas. Good heavens. No wonder she’s spooked.”

“I’m a beta, actually,” Mason corrects automatically, because apparently, taxonomy is the priority here.

“Three alphas and a beta, then,” she amends with a dismissive wave. “Still too many cooks in the kitchen, if you ask me.”

I deploy my most winning smile, the one that’s gotten me free drinks at every bar in the city. “You wouldn’t happen to know where our lovely omega disappeared to? We’re worried about her.”

She sniffs. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tellyoulot. I tried to help you before and you scared her off!”

Mason steps forward, looking genuinely desperate in a way I’ve rarely seen from our usually composed beta. “Please. We just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“There’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Liam adds, his voice tight with urgency. “She overheard part of a conversation and completely misinterpreted it.”

“She thinks we want her to be some traditional, submissive omega,” I explain, the words tumbling out in a rush. “When we were actually saying the exact opposite—that we love her independence and don’t want her to change.”

Something flickers in Mrs. Finley’s expression—interest, perhaps, or skepticism.

“She thinks we’re rejecting her,” Caleb says, speaking for the first time since she opened the door. His voice is rough with emotion. “But we’re not. We want her exactly as she is.”

Mrs. Finley studies him for a long moment, then shifts her gaze to each of us in turn. Whatever she sees in our faces must satisfy her, because her expression softens. Slightly.

“That girl has had enough people telling her she’s not omega enough,” she says finally. “Her ex did quite a number on her self-esteem.”

“We know,” Mason says quietly. “And we would never want her to be anything other than exactly who she is.”

Mrs. Finley takes another sip of her tea, clearly weighing her options. Then she sighs. “Haven’t seen her for a few days.” A pause. “Thought she was with you.”

I resist the urge to groan in frustration. “She was. She left.”

“Is there anyone else she might go to?” Liam asks. “A friend? Family member?”

---