Page 128 of Pack Frenzy
JESS
The zipper wins the first round.
I curse under my breath and twist toward the mirror, trying to reach the spot between my shoulder blades that apparently exists in a different dimension.
The costume designer must’ve hated people with normal arm lengths—or loved watching them suffer.
Or maybe it’s just me. My hands are shaking a little, which doesn’t help. I tell myself it’s excitement, but there’s a tightness in my chest that feels more like the moment before jumping off something high.
I’ve been with each of them now—Rowan, Cassian, Eli—and the air in the house has felt heavier ever since.
Like my scent’s changing, my skin is too sensitive of every brush of theirs. I can’t stop wondering what happens next… if something inside me’s already winding up for my heat and whatever comes with it.
“Come on,” I mutter, stretching until something pops. The zipper finally gives with a tiny metallic sigh. Victory.
The top settles into place—shimmery teal, cut a little lower than I usually wear. The skirt’s short and layered like fish scales, and the iridescent sheen makes it look half-liquid when I move.
Mermaid-inspired, not movie-accurate, but close enough that I can pretend it’s part ofThe Sky Between Usuniverse.
But after spending three hours at the mall and dashing to another half dozen places for Eli to find the perfect pieces he wanted, I was done. And Eli didn’t even reward us with a peek at his costume or who he was going as.
I tug at one of the translucent sleeves, watching how it catches light, then decide it’s hopeless. My reflection looks equal parts confident and terrified—like I’m about to go on stage instead of just walking out the door.
The last time I dressed up was for the Nexus banquet last night. Before that, it was Nocturne, sneaking into a bar with my friends, laughing like we had any idea what we were walking into. We didn’t.
I still don’t know what happened to them after the wreck. I need to ask Rowan if he’s found anything—ifanyonemade it out.
This is the first time it’s just… me. No agenda. No danger. Just a glittery mermaid skirt and the hope that maybe it’s okay to want something as small as fun.
A knock from downstairs. Rowan’s voice, deep and steady: “Five-minute warning!”
“Got it!” I shout back, even though I’m still barefoot.
My heart does a stupid flutter remembering last night—the weight of him, the way he said my name like it meant something. LikeImeant something besides being an Omega. How so many guys dumped me after they got into my pants.
I shove the thought down before it can grow roots, grab a soda from the mini-fridge, and pop the tab. The fizz hisses, and I take a sip that burns the inside of my nose, sharp enough toground me. I can’t afford to want things I’m not sure I’m allowed to keep.
Focus. Fun. Distraction. That’s the point of today.
I slip into silver sandals, swipe gloss on, and head downstairs.
Rowan’s in the living room, wearing a plain black T-shirt with an anime logo stretched across his chest and dark jeans. His attempt at casual blends perfectly with his “don’t mess with me” vibe. Cassian’s scrolling through his phone on the couch, zero effort given—just his usual leather jacket and jeans, smug grin firmly in place.
I open my mouth to ask if they’re ready—then almost inhale my soda. Because Eli walks out of the hallway like a damn fever dream.
White shirt, open at the throat. Slim dark trousers. His hair—usually sun-warm brown—is dyed in streaks of pale silver and soft blue, like moonlight spilled over ocean glass. It makes his eyes look even brighter, impossible to look away from. And jeweled earrings that catch the light every time he moves.
There’s a shimmer of gold at the corner of each eye, too, subtle enough that I don’t notice it until he’s close.
Cassian blinks once. “You’re going to be prettier than half the girls at this thing.”
Eli straightens his cuff without looking up. “Half? Try two-thirds.”
Rowan exhales through his nose, trying not to smile. “You’re going to get mobbed. Definitely by me, at least.”
“Occupational hazard,” Eli says, adjusting the line of his collar like it’s perfectly normal to look like an anime heartthrob.
I fight the urge to stare and fail spectacularly. He’s always been beautiful in that effortless way that made me feel like I was trying too hard, but this—this is something else.
