Hopping for a Better Pack (The Pack Pets Omegaverse #4)

Chapter 1

Mine!

I smell him as soon as I walk into the room. Now I just have to figure out where he is. My inner omega is screaming at me that this alpha is mine, and I need him. I make a circuit of the room, trying to follow my nose, but there are so many scents in the air.

I thought that being this close to Thanksgiving break, it would be dead here.

In truth, I didn’t even want to attend this damned holiday mixer.

But now I’m so fucking glad that Adam made me come out tonight…

and that he and Lily haven’t gotten here yet.

Seriously, they’re like matching porcelain dolls of perfection, and it’s hard not to make comparisons with how beautiful they both are.

It would be even more frustrating to hang out with them if they weren’t so fucking sweet all the damned time.

I have to find my alpha. His scent is lingering. Maybe he’s moving around too.

I wonder if he caught my scent as well.

Maybe he’s looking for me!

My inner omega squeals at the thought. I was starting to think I’d never find a pack, or anybody really, who smelled like they were mine. I can’t wait to tell Adam and Lily…and Teddy. Shit. I still need to apologize. But I get it now. Shit!

When Teddy found his people earlier this year, I was so happy and excited for him, but also insanely jealous.

Not of him or them—they’re awesome, even the assholes are tolerable since they make him happy—but of them all finding each other.

And then starting a pack. It was almost like a fairy tale: the group forming around him with his first love and his new loves…

and Garret. Whatever the fuck his damage is.

But now, I found mine. I know he’s here.

I tilt my head back, breathing deeply, my mind trying to sort through all the scents around me.

The sickly, cloying sugary scents of other omegas—we’re all supposed to have scent dampeners on, but it’s easy to tell that some of them are shirking that rule.

I wish I’d thought to. Then there are the darker, more musky scents of alphas, and a few of the lighter, neutral scents of betas.

Some of the packs here tonight include a beta, but most of them are staff for the event.

My head feels like it’s on a swivel as I scan the room, and then I see him…

I think it’s him. He’s staring right at me, and oh, fuck me, but he’s with a pack and they look so handsome.

He marches towards me—cutting through the dancers in the middle of the room.

He’s not tall for an alpha, but his body is streamlined and looks really good in that suit.

The other four members follow behind him in some kind of weird V formation.

The omega center says we shouldn’t make eye contact with potential packs.

We need to act demure and composed. Don’t rock the boat.

I got the memo; I just don’t give a shit.

My pack seems confused by my aggression, because as I meet their eyes, the ones in the back falter.

Only the leader manages to make it to me.

Standing in front of me, his eyes roam over my body, traveling from my low pumps, following the slit in the side of my skirt, to the flare of my hips.

He takes everything in, his tongue coming out to wet his lips when his eyes finally meet mine.

I don’t want to sound conceited, but I wore this stupid dress because it has a backless halter top, which helps to minimize my bust while accentuating my delts and traps…

I have worked my ass off on those, and honestly, I think they’re some of my best features.

Adam balked at it because of the high collar, but I really think I pulled it off.

That being said, I know jack-shit about fashion or clothes in general…

and this is the only dress I have. I got it over spring break on a shopping trip with Shelly and Sasha.

I had just heard that my best friend was leaving the center, and they demanded we have retail therapy.

Ugh, I appreciate their help, but I don’t really do shopping.

I’d much rather go to the gym and run or lift until I’m ready to pass out, but they wanted to shop and Mamá insisted.

We ended up at the mall, and I have no idea where they thought I would wear this, but now I’m glad they got it for me.

I was worried that the deep emerald would clash with my sienna skin tone…

but like I said, what the hell do I know about clothes shopping?

The pale alpha in front of me is still smiling…shit…am I supposed to say something? I give a little wave, and his plastic smile looks a bit more genuine as he nods. When he speaks, his voice is a low cultured timbre. “Hello. My name is John, of Pack Benedict. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms…?”

Oh, shit, I need to introduce myself.

Yes.

“Sarah. My name’s Sarah. Sorry. I was distracted. You smell so good.”

Fuck me, now I sound like an idiot.

He chuckles this time, and it sets my teeth on edge a bit, but that’s ok because he smells like mine.

I can deal with a cringe laugh. He looks around, finally noticing that the rest of his group never made it.

“Won’t you please excuse me, I think I lost some of my entourage.

” He leaves me gaping, walking back towards them, but I can’t make out their whispered exchange.

His what the what, now?

He meant pack, right?

He comes back to me, his plastic smile wedged back in place. “I’m so sorry, my dear. It seems my…er…pack is not feeling well. They had to step away for a bit. However, I would like to get to know you better, if that’s acceptable?”

I nod numbly, because all I want to do is curl up in this alpha’s lap and listen to the slight rumble of his voice as he tells me about himself. Which is fucked, because I don’t like when people drone on about themselves.

Sure-fucking-enough though, two hours later, he’s still talking.

His pack never came to sit with us. I noticed them a few times, speaking with other omegas around the room, and I wanted to drag them over to our table.

But John just kept on talking. Apparently, his family is pretty important in some kind of pharmaceutical thing…

I don’t know. I start to nod off. Fuck me.

At least I don’t have to make conversation, other than the occasional nod and looking impressed.

The longer I’m around John, the more I want to escape.

His scent still calls to me, a sweet, musky smell that reminds me of old leather and tobacco.

I can pick up the scents of his packmates: a sweet apple, Earl Grey tea, a citrusy wood that kind of makes me think of honeysuckles, and a cool spearmint.

None of them are scents that seem to go together, or demand my attention as strongly as his—but since I’m basically huffing the guy at this point, I don’t care.

I’m starting to think my nose is batshit crazy since the rest of his pack are avoiding me, and John’s rambling on about how great his family is.

But my inner omega is sitting up and screaming that this guy is hers, and the crazy bitch isn’t about to take no for an answer.