Page 42 of A Pack of Pumpkins
Victor isn’t here. I haven’t seen him since I called Finian back from him last night.
Connor, an alpha with fire-red hair and green eyes, steps out first and helps Cali down. I notice the care in his hands. At just over four months along in her pregnancy Cali’s cute little bump is just starting to show. Seth, her tall blond alpha, and Bax, my cousin, round the truck and move toward her, flanking her like three watchful bodyguards.
Bax breaks away and comes to me first. We hug, and he kisses my cheek. Bax has always been my favorite cousin—more like a friend growing up. His eyes flick to the alphas behind me, assessing. He presented as a dominant alpha last month, a first for the Evergreen Pack. But they’ve adapted well. Since Bram is the Ember Pack’s dominant alpha, it’s customary for him to greet the dominant of any other pack we meet. But since they technically met at the hospital they just shake hands.
At the time Bax had been distracted by his omega in distress. Now, he’s focussed on me and my living situation.
Baxtakes Brams hand without smiling. My anxiety spikes, and my scent must shift, because when Bram’s done shaking his hand, he runs a steady palm up and down my spine.
“Bax is my cousin,” I remind him.
“It’s nice to meet a member of Clara’s family.” He turns to Cali. "I hope you're feeling better." Bram’s crooked smile softens him. He looks completely harmless, considering he writes gruesome murders and hideous hauntings.
Cali returns it. "I am, thank you again."
“I thought there were four of you,” Bax says unceremoniously.
My heart sinks. Of course he knows. He owns the only café in town and probably asked around. I hadn’t told him the exact number of alphas in the Ember Pack just to avoid this exact awkwardness.
Bram doesn’t miss a beat. “Victor is indisposed. He wasn’t feeling well.” Not technically a lie. I’m sure he wasn’t feeling well enough to deal with my family or anyone. My heart clenches, and my omega lets out an invisible whine. I force it down.
“We’ve got the barbecue going in the back,”Dagan signs.
Seth surprises me by replying in both speech and sign. “Starving.”
We’re about to head that way when tires crunch up the drive. Winnie’s pink Jeep ambles in, Rose riding shotgun and glaring at the missing doors like they’re a personal insult. Rose hops out too fast, nearly eating dirt before Seth catches her. She clutches a dish in one hand and her phone in the other. Winnie has a platter of cupcakes with festive sprinkles.
The Ember Pack introduces themselves again. Rose looks like she's about to pass out when Bram offers to sign her copy of his book that she has clutched under her arm. She walks away looking at the book like it's made of magic.
Another vehicle arrives. A sleek, silver Benz, and I wince at the gravel pinging its paint. Hunt, dark-skinned with golden eyes, steps out and helps Sunnyfrom the middle seat. Jess and Luca emerge next. Then the driver’s door opens and out steps an imposing man in his forties.
Salt-and-pepper hair, razor-cut jaw, slacks, and a sports jacket. Cole. He’s dressed for a boardroom, not a barbecue. Sunny’s dominant alpha. And I can tell he’s here on a mission to judge my living situation.
Bram straightens, his expression steady. Cole strides across the drive, offering his hand with a predator’s gleam. Bram meets it head-on.
“Cole Night,” Cole growls.
“Bram Razor,” Bram returns, his smile gone. Suddenly, I believe he writes murder for a living.
“Where is your fourth?” Cole asks. So, he’s gathered the information about my pack and found it lacking.
I clench my fists and breathe deep. He won’t accept the illness excuse. But Bram’s presence shifts from less scholar to more six-foot-eight alpha with dominance like steel under velvet.
“My pack is my concern.” His voice is low, almost a growl.
Cole’s reply is sharper. “Clara is a good friend of my mate. She’s close to pack. Her safety is my concern.” His dominance crashes into the air.
For a heartbeat, panic burns through me. I need my friends and my pack to get along. Then Bram pulls me close and, shockingly, yields.
He kisses the top of my head without looking away from Cole. “Clara is safe with me. Victor is my fourth, and he isn’t coming tonight. That’s all I can say. I’ll take a blood oath if you want.”
I tense. Blood oaths are no joke. They're legally binding, enforceable by lethal retribution.
“No!” I blurt.
“Yes,” Cole says.
I step between them, glaring at both him and Sunny. “I invited you here to meet the pack that’s courting me. Not to demand legally binding death agreements.”
