Page 75 of Pack Plus One

“And I’ll take first check-in,” I add, already mentally calculating how to space out our rotations to provide maximum coverage without violating the manager’s rules.

“What if she needs us?” Jude asks, basically voicing all our concerns.

Mason pulls out his phone. “We call her. Text her. Let her know we’re nearby if she needs us, but respect her space if she doesn’t.”

“And if she doesn’t answer?” Caleb presses.

“Then we reassess,” Mason says firmly. “But we don’t panic, and we don’t break down her door unless we have genuine reason to believe she’s in danger.”

It’s a sensible plan, if not the one our instincts are screaming for. But that’s the thing about being in a pack—sometimes you have to override your individual desires for the greater good.

And right now, the greater good is respecting Leah’s choices, even if they terrify us.

Night falls. We establish a rotation: one in the building checking on Leah’s door, one in the car outside, two at the coffee shop across the street. Every two hours, we switch.

At 10 PM, during my second building check, I find the supplies gone from Leah’s doorstep. A good sign—she’s taken them in, which means she’s alert enough to recognize help when it’s offered.

I press my ear to the door, listening for any signs of distress, but hear only silence. After a moment’s hesitation, I slip a note under her door—just a simple message telling her we’re nearby if she needs anything.

“How is she?” Jude asks when I return to the car. It’s strange seeing him like this. His usual exuberance dampened by worry.

“Quiet,” I report. “She took the supplies in.”

He nods, relief flickering across his features. “That’s something.”

Midnight comes and goes. Mason returns from his check-in with nothing to report. Caleb paces outside the coffee shop until the manager threatens to call the police, at which point he relocates his brooding to the shadow of a nearby tree.

At 2 AM, it’s Jude’s turn.

“Bring her more water,” I suggest, handing him a fresh pack of bottles. “And maybe some of those protein bars from the gas station. Heat burns a lot of calories.”

“I know how heats work, professor,” he says, but takes the supplies without further complaint.

He returns fifteen minutes later, his expression troubled.

“What is it?” I ask immediately.

“Nothing,” he says, too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

“Jude.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just... her scent is really strong now. Like, really strong. And I thought I heard her moving around in there. But when I knocked, she didn’t answer.”

Caleb straightens from his slouch against the car. “We need to check on her.”

“We’ve been checking on her,” Mason points out.

“No, we need to check on her,” Caleb insists. “Actually see her. Make sure she’s alright.”

“We can’t just barge in,” I remind him. “That would violate her trust completely.”

“What about her neighbor?” Jude suggests suddenly. “The nosy old lady. She could check on Leah without it being... you know, invasive alpha behavior.”

It’s not a bad idea. Mrs. Finley seems to care about Leah, and as a fellow omega, her presence would be far less threatening during a heat.

“It’s two in the morning,” Mason points out.

“So? Old people don’t sleep,” Jude argues. “They just sit around waiting for opportunities to meddle in younger people’s lives.”

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