Page 119 of Pack Frenzy
She sets down her stylus. “For now, it’s too soon to determine long-term viability. Should your Pack request continuation at the ninety-day mark, the board will reconvene to review. Likewise, if you decide this arrangement isn’t fulfilling, alternate placements remain an option.” Her stylus taps once, almost eager. “In fact, we’ve already received a preliminary request regarding your file.”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Flexibility benefits everyone. In fact…” She scrolls once on her tablet. “There’s already an Alpha expressing interest should your current arrangement prove unstable.” Her tone goes bland, too practiced. “Mr. Callighan filed a notice with Nexus shortly after your intake—standard procedure for Alphas seeking compatible Omega candidates. High stability index, single-Alpha pack. Less… complex.”
The room tilts.
My stomach drops so fast I think I might be sick right here on the pristine conference table. “Blake.”
Her brow lifts—faintly surprised, faintly curious. “You know him?” Like she didn’t expect me to recognize a name flagged on my placement profile.
Know him. The man who killed Meredith. Who walked away because his father’s lawyers were better than justice. Who smiled at me tonight like he was better than everyone there and hadn’t killed an Omega with his bare hands.
“We’ve met,” I force out, my voice barely steady.
She doesn’t even blink. “Then you understand it’s often easier with one Alpha. Simpler hierarchy. And Mr. Callighan has expressed genuine interest in?—”
“No.” The word comes out sharp enough that she actually stops typing. My hands are shaking in my lap, but I don’t care anymore. “He killed someone. An Omega.TheirOmega.”
For a moment—just a moment—something flickers across her face. But then the mask slides back into place, smooth and unreadable. “Mr. Callighan was cleared of all charges. The board found no evidence of malicious intent. Sometimes... bonds simply fail.”
Bonds simply fail.Like Meredith’s death was a clinical error…an unfortunate accident. Like grief is just another compatibility metric.
“He’s a murderer,” I say quietly, and I can hear the tremor in my voice now—rage and horror mixing into something I can barely contain.
Her eyes narrow a fraction, the faintest crease between perfect brows. “Has one of your Alphas made this claim to you?”
My stomach lurches. There it is—the trap. If I say yes, they’ll call it contamination, claim my pack biased me against avettedAlpha. They’d call it emotional influence. Grounds for reassignment.
“No,” I say quickly. “I saw the headline. He just—” my voice catches “—looks guilty.”
“That’s a very serious accusation, Ms. Mancini. One that has already been legally resolved. I would strongly advise against repeating it—particularly to other Omegas who might be... influenced by rumor.” Her tone is a pleasant warning.
She taps something into her tablet, and I watch my words get documented, catalogued. Evidence that I’m emotional. Unstable. Too willing to believe gossip over official records.
“Now.” She folds her hands on the table. “As I was saying, Mr. Callighan has expressed interest. It’s not uncommon for Alphas to... reconsider their preferences after an initial bondfails. He’s looking for an Omega who understands that structure creates safety. One who won’t resist traditional hierarchy.”
The subtext hits me hard:someone who won’t fight back.
Acid burns the back of my mouth. She’s not just offering me an alternative. She’s measuring me for it. Seeing if I’ll break. If I’m desperate enough—or scared enough—to choose a single-Alpha pack over the complicated, unconventional thing I have now.
Over Eli. Over Rowan and Cassian. Over the first place I’ve felt like I could breathe.
“I understand the appeal,” she continues smoothly. “Especially for Omegas who find themselves... overwhelmed by multiple bonds. Mr. Callighan can provide clarity. Simplicity.”
Control,she means.Submission.
Something in me snaps. I lean forward, meeting her gaze dead-on. “I’m not furniture to be rearranged.” The words come out quieter than I intended, but steadier. “And I’m not being handed off to a man who killed his last Omega just because Nexus doesn’t like that my Pack includes a Beta. Not for Blake. Not for anyone.”
For the first time, she actually looks at me—really looks—and I see the glimmer of surprise before she smooths it away.
“Of course,” she says, already typing. “They all say that, at first.”
After that, the questions blur together—surface-level things meant to sound harmless. Favorite foods. Morning routines. Who handles chores. Each one a disguise for what they really want to know:where are the cracks.
By the end, I feel scrubbed raw, like they’ve taken my answers apart just to see what I’m made of.
When the door finally opens, the air outside feels colder—or maybe that’s just the adrenaline draining away.
The guys are waiting by the elevators. Rowan sees me first, and the relief that crosses his face makes my chest ache. Cassian’s pacing, practically vibrating with tension. Eli’s the stillest I’ve ever seen him, which somehow feels most dangerous of all.
