Page 50 of Pack Owned
For now, I’m safe. For now, I have allies. But in a world where Omegas are hunted and Alphas rule, nothing is certain.
But I can’t just wait around here and do nothing, or I’ll go crazy.
The echo of my own erratic heartbeat follows me into the garage. The vast space is empty, save for the array of vehicles and Ryker’s absence. I’d half-expected to find him here, lurking with that smoky aura of his, but there’s only the scent of oil and metal.
I wander over to the Corvette hoisted on jacks, sleek and red like it’s been dipped in sin.
My fingers brush the tools scattered around the workbench, each one conjuring up a memory of my dad, his oil-stained hands working diligently under the hood of some junker he’d brought back to life. He had always said cars are like people—complex and needing care.
“Miss you, Dad,” I murmur, the words lost amidst the cavernous size of the garage. Dad would’ve been so envious if he could see this place.
For now, it’s just me and these machines and a gnawing restlessness that won’t let me be still. I’m not one to sit idle, especially when my mind’s racing faster than a drag car on the final stretch.
Dropping to a crouch, I check the tires, then the engine. That’s not enough, though. I need something to do, something to fix. Then I see the transmission, looking rough and worn out, like it’s been chewed up and spit out.
“Looks like you’ve seen better days,” I say to the Corvette as if it can hear me.
Without thinking, I grab a wrench and get to work. The feel of cold steel in my hand grounds me, giving me purpose. Every turn of the bolt, every tiny adjustment—it’s control, it’s power. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.
CHAPTER 15
LIAM
Her sweet fuckin’ scent is burned into my brain. Warm like brown sugar and vanilla but with a dark, rich undertone of jasmine that makes my mouth water and other parts stir the second she walks into my bedroom.
Last night, she was totally focused on saving the world in my video game, her brow furrowed and sticking out her tongue as she concentrated. Adorable as hell, my little Omega.
Her sweet arousal spike hit me, nearly undoing me without even laying a hand on her. She was so fucking tempting, wearing nothing but a damn t-shirt.
The whole time we played the video game, I fought the urge to pin her down and work that scent until it got even thicker. Make her squirm, make her beg for me.
And the best part? When she conked out against me for the night. Got to tuck her soft curves in close, arm wrapped around her while I plowed through that fucking boss fight. She felt comfortable enough with me to allow sleep to knock her out. Yet she kept nuzzling into me in her sleep like she was already mine.
But fuck... if she keeps tempting me like that with those big bedroom eyes and that sinful scent... well, I’ll make sure she leaves more ravaged and sated as any Omega ever.
So, I stood, my muscles coiled tight, and backed away like she was a lit fuse, and I was the bomb waiting to go off. I left her there, in my bed, looking like a fallen angel—a temptation I couldn’t afford to touch.
Wanting to be within earshot if she came looking for me, I spent the night on the couch. Paid for it, too. Tossed and turned nearly all night, the fabric scratching at my skin, reminding me with every goddamn itch that I was the one out of place, not her. She belonged in my bed—hell, she belonged in this house, with us, where I could keep her safe.
“Fuck.” My back was sore, each muscle protesting the night spent on the unforgiving couch, but it was worth it. When I closed my eyes, I could still smell her on my sheets, and I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone—or anything—take that away from me.
I bite down the disappointment of returning to my room after breakfast and finding her not there. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower, thinking of her reaction when I tell her she should sleep with me from now on.
The sunlight seeps through the window, casting a golden glow over the room that does jack shit to ease the tightness in my back. I dress in jeans and a t-shirt, with one thought hammering in my skull—Kayla’s scent on my sheets, a sweet mix of innocence and something that whispers to every Alpha bone in my body that she’s our Omega.
I just have to convince her of the fact. Not just for the ache in my spine but because the thought of her curled up next to me, safe and sound, is the only thing that’ll give me peace.
“Fuck,” I mutter again, stretching out the kinks as best I can.
I head downstairs, looking for her but don’t find her anywhere.
“Kayla?” My voice bounces back at me, unanswered. A prickle of unease stirs in my gut. I check the spare bedroom that has more of her scent, but it’s empty.
“Kayla!” Louder this time, an edge of command sharpening my tone. Still nothing.
Room by room, I search, finding only cold silence. The kitchen—empty. The library—just books standing sentinel on their shelves. The game room echoes with the ghost of last night’s laughter, the memory of her smile as real as the concern now clawing at my insides. Where the fuck is she?
“Kayla!” It’s more snarl than shout, frustration boiling over. “Where are you hiding, little Omega?” I murmur under my breath, trying to tamp down the rising tide of something dark and dangerous.
