Page 5 of Their Knotty Pack
Before he can answer, his eyes catch on something over my shoulder, and I turn to see who just walked in.
An alpha and a beta, by the looks of it. The alpha is tall—taller than me—and is built like a damn tank. He definitely has some Asian heritage, and if I had to guess, I'd say Korean. Black hair is cut high and tight, and his dark, almond-shaped eyes sweep the room as if evaluating for a threat. He's wearing a button-up shirt and tie, with leather shoulder holsters and a shiny police badge on his waist. Ah. So he's a cop.
"Detective Song," Brody calls out, his hand waving in the air. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Just Hunter is fine, Mr. Benson," the alpha shrugs, walking up to the seat next to me. "This taken?" He directs his question at me, and I quickly shake my head. Guess I'm feeling social tonight.
The beta sits on the other side of Hunter and reaches out his hand, a lazy smirk in place. "Since this brute didn't feel it was prudent to introduce me, I'm Damien." Damien's eyes crinkle with his smile, but he has that air of playboy surrounding him too. His dark brown hair is swept back from his face, and his rich, coppery skin makes his hazel eyes pop. I've always been attracted to both men and women, but that's not what I'm feeling with him.
"Kieran," I take his hand and shake it, "Brody and I are…acquaintances. We just ran into each other."
"Are you a client of his?" Hunter asks, nodding his head at Bernie as the bartender slides him a drink.
"He represented my sister a few months ago in a bogus case. Our stepsisters were trying to sue her for our step-grandmother's estate. How do you two know each other?" I motion between the two of them with a finger.
Damien grins as he slings an arm over Hunter's shoulder, and the detective gives a heavy sigh, like he's so over his antics. "We grew up in the same town in rural Idaho. Being the only two second generation immigrants in all of Dry Creek, we stuck together and he hasn't been able to get rid of me since."
Hunter's face breaks out into a small grin for the first time all evening. "At least you tell the story right. Though you did leave out the part where you were stuck on the toilet for two days after having Eomma's Kimchi Jigae. You never lied about eating a whole malagueta pepper again."
Damien only throws his head back and laughs before turning his attention to Brody and me. "Have you ever heard one stubborn woman screaming in Portuguese while the equally stubborn one on the other side of the phone yells back in Korean?"
"I was on the Korean side of the phone, and it wasn't pretty. Until Eomma told Mamãe he lied about the pepper so she thought he could handle it." Hunter smirks,and Damien sighs.
"They're still best friends, you know. And give us shit about settling down every time we see them."
As we all talk and get to know each other, I find that for the first time, I feel like…like I belong somewhere.
When Hunter and Damien ask if we have any plans for Christmas the next morning, and if we want to come crash on their couches, I have a feeling our lives are about to change in a very big way.
Chapter 1
Bethany
“Iknow it seems daunting, but this is a tried-and-true process. I've only had five omegas walk through these doors in the last five years I’ve worked here thatdidn’twalk away happy with a pack by the end of it.” The words taste like ash on my tongue, and I mentally correct myself.
Six. Six omegas, because as of six months ago, I'm one of them.
Before that, I was one of the happy ones. Blissfully unaware of what life held in store for me, never stopping to think that Pack Hansen was anything but sincere.
What an idiot I had been. Who the hell goes three years without bonding their omega?
Unfaithful jackasses, that's who.
"Oh, this one smells nice." The mousy omega in front of me looks up at us, an open baggie with the scent card still inside clenched in her hand.
"Okay," Lanie, my best friend, co-worker, and now roommate gives her a smile as she puts the card back in the specially-designed air-tight bag and puts it to the side, "keep going, Melanie. Statistically, you'll want at least three packs to start off with."
Right. Melanie. That's her name.
She gives us a tentative smile as she continues to look through the cards we pulled for her to sample.
Lanie, her purple hair pulled into two space-buns, glances over at me. Her brows raise in a silent question, asking me if I'm okay, and I roll my eyes.
It's fine. Of course it is. It's been six months.
Six months of sleeping on Lanie's pull-out couch because she's too nice to kick me out.
Six months of telling my brother Archie that, yes I'm fine, and no, I don't want to come stay with them.
