Page 6 of A Pack of Mistletoe
“I saw Rosie in town today.”
The words drop between us like a stone into the lake. Silent, heavy, sinking deep. I’ve told them a lot about her. But not everything. I glance at Harlan. He was better off not knowing who her father was. From the corner of my eye, I see Wyatt shift from foot-to-foot. My chest tightens. I draw in a slow breath that doesn’t help.
“And?” Evander demands, arms thrown wide.
“And she pretended not to know me.” My voice is flat, too controlled. “Not only that—she pretended I had the wrong person. Like I wouldn’t recognize her anywhere. Any place, any lifetime.”
Logan and Harlan exchange a look before both glance away. Evander presses a hand over his heart like he’s in a soap opera. Ass.
“Are you sure it was her? It’s been a few years, bud,” Wyatt drawls, his Southern accent soft but steady. Of everyone here, he’s the one I’ve told the most about her.
“I’m sure.” I meet his gaze. His deep green eyes cut through me, leaving me raw.
“Then maybe we look for her while we’re here,” he says simply. “We’ll figure it out.”
He says it like it’s easy, and that calm certainty twists something inside me.
The words scrape out. “I don’t know. Maybe she just doesn’t want to see me. I’ve been so damn worried. No one’s seen her in years, and I don’t buy her parents’ line of bullshit about her ‘exploring her interests.’”
“What do you want to do about it?” Harlan asks.
I rub the back of my neck, restless energy sparking through me. “I’m going to think on it.”
Evander scoffs. “That’s what you’re best at. Just don’t think so long you lose her again.”
I growl low in my throat, but he only smirks, unbothered. The thing is, Rosie has always been my center. Even when we were teenagers, I knew I was meant to be with her. This rejection cuts bone-deep in a way I don’t quite understand.
We spend the next hour walking through the restaurant plans, Harlan’s voice low and steady while Wyatt lays out his vision for the kitchen. I nod along, throwing in a few comments that mean nothing. My thoughts are miles away, stuck on a flash of familiar curls and the way Rosie looked at me like she was scared.
By the time we walk to the elevator I’m dead on my feet. The elevator doors slide open for the presidential suite. I’m halfway through a yawn when everyone suddenly stops short.
My heart nearly leaps out of my throat at the sight. Sitting on the floor of the hall outside our door is a woman. Her arms rest on her knees, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. A frizzy mess of wild curls blocks her features—but I’d know her anywhere.
“Rosie?”
Rose
Kai and the other alphas in his pack looked pretty stunned to find me sitting in the hall outside their suite.
I was quickly swept into the rooms, and now I’m perched on an expensive wingback chair while the five alphas Kai introduced stare at me.
“How can we help you, Miss…?” Harlan, the dominant alpha, trails off, leaving me to answer. So, he doesn’t remember me. Good. I don’t need that kind of conversation right now.
He’s exactly as I remember him. Incredibly broad, even for an alpha. Dark brown skin, smooth shaved head, and a neat beard.
“I heard you’re looking for an omega to bond with.” I aim the statement at Kai. It’s easiest. His soft eyes catch mine, confused and hurt. The look breaks my heart. I never wanted to hurt him. It all just became so messy, so dangerous, so fast.
“Where did you hear that?” Harlan asks. I glance back at him. He’s just as intimidating as I remember—his stone expression giving nothing away.
“I’m friends with Sunny,” I say. “She’s the Night Pack’s omega.”
Logan, Cole’s brother, swipes a hand through his hair and mutters a soft, “Damnit.”
“So, you heard we needed to bond an omega and decided to—what? Come rub it in?” Evander asks. He has a definite air of directness that I like. I can understand it. I was never one to keep things to myself before I fled home. Keeping secrets for the last two years is part of why I hide behind my phone. I hate lying.
“No. I came to offer to fake bond with you and solve your problems,” I reply. Evander’s eyebrows shoot up to his perfectly styled hairline and his mouth quirks. Apparently, he appreciates directness too.
Harlan raises an eyebrow. “Forgive my bluntness, but—you’re a beta.”
