Page 49 of A Pack of Pumpkins
Up close, I realize it’s not Finian at all. This man is a bit shorter, his nose slightly larger, his ears a little smaller. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and jeans.
“No—I’m not him,” he says with asoft smile.
“Then who the hell are you?” Victor asks, pulling me subtly back toward him. We don’t quite touch, but his body heat is a steady presence against my skin.
“Robert O’Connel,” the Finian look-alike replies. “I own Raven Group.”
The alphas exchange looks, and I roll my eyes. “Would you like to come in, Mr. O’Connel? I think we have a lot to discuss.”
“Thank you. And you can call me Rob. I’m sorry to intrude but I had a strange dream last night. When I woke I couldn’t remember it but I had the urge to come here and explain a few things.”
Bram glares at the man as he makes his way to the kitchen.
I offer tea, which he accepts, and we all sit around the table.
“Let me start at the beginning,” Rob says. “This house was abandoned after Finian’s death. It stayed in his family’s name, but they were wealthy and had better, more profitable properties, so they left this one alone.”
"Must be quite a family,"Dagan signs, and Jack translates.
"It is. Ever heard of Glukob Oil?" Rob asks, and everyone’s jaws drop.
“Anyway, when I was a teenager, I came here with my dad on a family history tour that included this house, and some other holdings here and in Ireland. After I stepped foot inside, I started having dreams. Not super often, but vivid. I dreamt of a man who looked a lot like me, in this house. Alone.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I can only imagine how awful it was for Finian to be stuck here, alone, all that time. My scent must sour, because Jack shifts closer, sliding an arm around my shoulders and scent-marking the top of my head.
There’s also a faint trace of baked bread… and a phantom nose pressing into the pulse point of my throat, marking me.
“I came back a few times to try to communicate with him and made a very tenuous contact,” Rob says. His eyes meet mine. “About three years ago, he sent me a peculiar dream. Instead of this gloomy, abandoned house, it was the beach in front of it, on a beautiful summer morning. A woman walked along the shoreline, and from the dream, I understood that Finian believed her to be his mate.”
Darlin',a voice whispers in my ear, sending a beat of warmth straight to my core.
“I thought it absurd at first, but then I did some research and realized that, though it’s not widely accepted by the scientific community, this kind of thing is generally reported.”
“So you started looking for a potential pack?” I prompt.
“I thought it unlikely an omega would be satisfied by one undead alpha, but if I could reassemble his pack…” He shrugs. “Imagine my surprise when four direct descendants were already packed.”
Fate,my omega sings in my soul. Looking around at my alphas, I can tell they feel the same.
“So you just decided to refurbish this house and hope we’d move in?” Jack asks.
“Basically. I decorated it to match the original house, per Finian’s request. He figured you could make it your own once you moved in. I also… studied you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“It’s not as creepy—well, maybe it is as creepy as it sounds. But it was done with good intent. To get you all here in the first place.”
“Given the outcome, I’d say it was worth it,” Bram says in a deep voice that sends shivers down my spine. Rob nods in agreement.
“Haven’t heard from my grand-uncle since you moved in. Doesn’t look like he needs me anymore.” A breeze stirs through the room, and the lights flicker. “No, it’s all right, Finian. I’m just glad you found what you needed.”
Rob rises from his seat.
“Are you sure you won’t stay longer? We could have lunch,” I suggest, but he shakes his head.
“No, I have a meeting later this afternoon. Thank you so much for your time. I hope I explained satisfactorily.”
With that, he leaves. As the door closes, the scent of Finian surrounds me, warm and steady, holding me in place.
