Page 115 of Pack Frenzy
A few seats over, Rachel’s tucked between two broad-shouldered Alphas, both laughing at something she says. She looks happy—actually happy.
For half a second, I almost accept what the Institute told us: that Nexus placements work, that sometimes they get it right.
I turn back to my plate. A small bite of salmon, some kind of honey glaze I can’t taste.
It’s fine. It’s all fine.
The speeches drone on about success metrics, integration rates, new initiatives to “restore balance between Alphas and Omegas.” I tune out somewhere betweenharmony in hierarchyandcollective responsibility.
“Need air?” Eli murmurs beside me, reading me like always.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing my chair away from the table. “Be right back.”
He nods, trusting me enough to let me go.
Rowan’s gaze follows, steady and unspoken.Don’t go far.
The hallway outside the banquet is quieter. Cooler, too. My heels click against tile as I head toward the restrooms. I pass a row of framed photographs—smiling Packs, polished and perfect. The captions read like trophies:Full Integration — Year One.Stabilization Cohort. Omega Rehabilitation Success.
The words make my stomach twist.Rehabilitation. Like being what I am was ever an illness.
Inside the restroom, I grip the counter until my reflection steadies. I wipe lipstick from the corner and give myself the pep talk I’d never admit to needing.
“You’re fine. You have a pack now. No one here can touch you.”
When I step out into the hall, the hum of the dinner muffles behind the heavy door. I start toward the ballroom—and freeze when I see Lily.
She’s standing by the wall, phone in hand, smiling faintly like she’s answering a text from one of her Alphas.
“Hey,” she says, looking up and spotting me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just needed a minute.”
Her gaze softens. “You and me both. These things are exhausting. You’d think they’d have better catering.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “At least the fish was real. I think.”
She giggles. “Tastes better than the crap they served us.”
“You look…happy. Are your Alphas treating you right?”
Lily’s whole face brightens, the kind of glow no amount of Omega training could fake.
“They’re incredible,” she says, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Like, actual communication and consent and—God, the way Caleb worries about me is borderlineembarrassing.” She laughs softly, cheeks flushed. “But in the best way.”
The warmth in her tone hits somewhere deep in my chest.So it’s possible,I think. That kind of safety. That kind of love.
She looks at me again, still smiling. “And you? You seem…different. Better.”
“I am.” Cause she doesn’t need my drama of wondering if this trial period is truly temporary or not.
Lily’s eyes soften further, but before she can reply, someone rounds the corner.
Tall. Expensive suit. Dark auburn hair styled perfectly. He has the kind of confidence that slides instead of walking. He’s got Alpha written all over him. His scent is sharp and dark. Synthetic. Like cologne poured over blood.
“Excuse me,” he says, voice smooth enough to make my skin crawl. His attention lands on me, curious and assessing in a way that feels too deliberate. “Do I know you?”
I blink. “Pretty sure you don’t.”
