Pack Favero (North Five University)

Prologue

Barnes

Peering down at my cell once more, hoping to find a response from a certain soft, shy, and painfully sweet omega, I frown at my screen when I find my notifications blank. No waiting text, no missed call, nothing. Which is very unlike Zira Favero, the punctual and ever-stressed woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking of since the moment I met her all those months ago at the library.

There she’d been, sitting behind the hefty wooden desk, with her copper hair twirled into a pretty bun at the nape of her neck and wearing a burnt-orange chiffon shirt to match. With her chin in her hand and her eyes on her monitor screen, she was completely oblivious to my presence. I’m sure I counted half of her freckles that cover her soft features before she noticed I was standing before her, waiting, watching, and content to stare while she bit into her full lower lip as she peered hard at her computer screen. I still replay the gasp she released when I tapped my fingers on the surface of the desk, pale-green eyes peering up at me in shock as though I hadn’t been standing there for ten minutes already. I Googled the exact shade of her eye color the moment I put in my request for a book I’ve been searching for as soon as I was tucked away in my classroom. Celadon. A grayish-green shade that looks startlingly stunning in a face equally as beautiful.

A beautiful face that had looked falsely relaxed when I last saw her, the sour notes in her usually soft-and-creamy banana-split scent revealing that her emotions weren’t quite lining up with the words that had left her mouth.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine. Just go to your party and have fun, okay? I’ll still be here when it ends, and we’ll talk then. You’re already late, Barnes,” she’d pushed, exasperated and tired, yet smiling softly at me as though I weren’t an alpha and couldn’t scent the change in her.

“If you’re fine, I’m the king of the world destined to sink on the next ship to hit an iceberg. Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded softly, tucking her hair behind her ear, a new development she has started to allow. I was pushing my luck at the time, my plan to go slow once I realized just how man-skittish she is flying out of the window as soon as I caught the sour notes of her scent. If I thought I wouldn’t scare the shit out of her, I would have pulled her into a hug that I probably needed more than she did. As it was, I was pushed out of her small apartment she shares with her sick mom, and I left to do as I was told.

I regret not pushing now, because my notifications still remain blank and I don’t much like it.

Frowning down at my cell, I type out another text to the elusive omega, a ball of worry growing in my chest despite the brief conversation that made my pack and me late to this charity benefit.

BARNES: I’ve been at this event for two hours already, and still no reply. Throw me a bone, Freckles. I know you’re not okay, but I can’t do anything to fix it if I don’t know what it is.

A sigh of relief escapes me when I see the message go through as delivered seconds before it’s noted as read . I’m staring at those bubbles like they’re my sole reason for existing, and frustration only builds the longer I watch them bounce around with an impending reply.

I’m staring so hard at my phone that Lazarus manages to take me by complete surprise when he suddenly asks from behind me, “Stare any harder at that little rectangle and I’m sure it has a chance of exploding.”

I flinch so hard that I damn near drop the thing, turning my head to raise an eyebrow at the man I consider a brother. “We’ve discussed your loitering ways, Laz.”

“I wasn’t loitering, Champ. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past—” he checks his watch, pausing his smooth English accent for only a moment before he continues, “—seven minutes.”

I frown. “You have?”

He nods with a patient smirk, crossing his arms over his pale-gray suit as he leans against the wall beside me. “Seems you were a little lost in whatever has captivated your attention on the little device of yours. Waiting on a reply from someone important?”

Rolling my eyes, I glance down at my phone, seeing the bubbles still bouncing with an impending reply I’m yet to receive, and sigh. “You already know I am.”

The smile on Laz’s face remains as he asks, “When do you think we’ll finally be allowed to meet this unicorn who’s finally snagged your attention?”

I shrug, a pinch of apprehension squeezing my chest. It’s not that I don’t want to introduce them. I do. I’m simply trying to get Zira to warm up to me before adding four more alphas to the mix. As much as I know they’ll all love her, she’s skittish around the male populace for reasons she still hasn’t shared with me, and I’d hate to scare her off before I’ve really had a chance to get to know her and vice versa. As soon as I think she can handle my pack, then I’ll introduce them. For now, I’d prefer to get her comfortable with one of us, bettering our chances that the omega won’t skitter away, afraid and overwhelmed.

“I know that look enough to read between the lines. No need to explain to me,” Laz chuckles, not at all sounding hurt, unlike our packmate and resident pain in the ass, Alek. The last time he begged to meet the stranger who smells like his favorite dessert, I refused, and I swear he had a Viking-sized tantrum and didn’t speak to me for two days.

“I will when the time is right,” I mutter once more, repeating my argument for the hundredth time and feeling shit for doing so. After all, it’s the first time I’ve ever kept a secret from the guys. Although, can it truly be considered a secret if they know I’m speaking to someone? Either way, this is a first for us all. Since we all usually date the same woman, finding it easier for the whole pack, it’s thrown them all up that I’ve met a new woman and I’m keeping her to myself for the time being.

Laz nods and peers out into the opulent ballroom, and I do the same, slipping my hands into my pockets in hopes that I might feel my cell vibrate with a text. Together, we watch the crowd mingle, spy Alek’s viper of an aunt receiving an earful from one of her alphas, and smile at Meemaw’s secretive grin she shares with her two alphas that peer down at her lovingly. A sharp ache of envy pierces my gut at that look, wishing for the same looks and interactions from a copper-haired beauty that smells like banana split with whipped cream, caramel sauce, and a perfect little cherry on top.

Swallowing the saliva that pools in my mouth at the mere thought of Zira Favero and her addictive scent, I side-eye Lazarus and mutter, “I don’t plan on keeping her to myself. I have a reason for doing it this way. Just trust me and it’ll all be worth it.”

Laz nods slowly with that ever-present smile that exudes patience and compassion. “I know. I’ll always trust you, Champ.”

With a deep sigh, I nod and relax against the wall, content to watch partiers and patrons and other wealthy folk while I continue to wait for a reply.

Eventually my phone vibrates and I waste no time fishing it from my pocket and checking my notifications. My heart practically soars when I see Zira’s name, and I open our messages and read her reply… which takes less than a second.

ZIRA: Talk later.

Frowning at my cell now, I go to write out a reply, feeling the bluntness of her words as though she spoke them to me in my ear. But then Laz says, “Not to be that person, mate, but perhaps give her some space. If that frown you're wearing is anything to consider, you might be broaching on the territory we outsiders would call ‘annoying.’ Spend some time being present with us for an hour more and I’ll drive you to her myself if you’re still unsatisfied.”

I clench my jaw, reading those two measly words over three more times before nodding and sighing, slipping my cell back in my pocket. “Sure. Thanks, Laz.”

“Anything for you, love,” he chuckles, clipping me with a brotherly clap to the back before leaving me to my strange mood. I watch as he approaches Meemaw with a charm-oozing smile that makes me shake my head, my lips twitching when Alek’s grandmother throws her head back with a blush and a laugh I can hear over the classical music strumming through the harp on stage.

With my hands tucked back in my pockets, my fingers playing with my cell, my thoughts drift back to Zira. I wonder if I’m making a mistake, keeping her and my pack separated. I know the guys have been itching as harshly as I have been for an omega to care for, to complete our little family. Now that I’ve found Zira, now that I’m slowly getting to know her, gain her trust, and slowly bring her into the fold of my life, I’m sure as I am that I need oxygen to breathe that she’s the one we’ve been looking for. I knew a week ago when Alek smelt her perfume on me and he clung to me like a koala in need of cuddling. I knew it a week before then when the twins came home early one night, inhaled, and went about making us and Silver banana splits for dessert after I cooked that night.

But most of all, I know it right now as my hands itch to message Zira. I know it because there’s nothing I want more than to leave this charity benefit and race to Zira’s apartment, coax her into telling me what’s wrong, and make it all better when she finally lets me in.

Deciding that self-control is for better men, I pull out my cell and instantly press dial on Zira’s number… only for it to go straight to voicemail. I try again, receiving the same answering machine message. After the third time, I decide that the little omega has turned her cell phone off, leaving me without the only form of contact I have to reach Zira.

Guess I have no choice but to stick out this charity event before rushing over to Zira’s and harassing her until she opens up to me. I’m not above the occasional harassment, within reason, especially if it gets me what I want.

So, with my mood quickly souring the longer I go without my Favero Fix, I drag through the next two hours with a stick up my ass, a perma-scowl the twins warn me about, and a need so deep in my chest that I can barely ignore it while making the rounds with the wealthy folk around me.

***

Sitting in the passenger side of Laz’s fancy car, I eye my cell, all too aware of the lack of messages or missed calls. I’m all too aware that Zira’s phone is still off and, when I checked her last location on the an app we both share, I almost had a fucking conniption when I realized it was at the hospital.

“You said the hospital, right?” Laz checks a second time since I demanded that he drive me there and not to Zira’s apartment like I originally planned.

I nod rapidly. “That’s where her phone pings last. She’s at the hospital and I don’t know why. She told me she was fine.”

“Are you sure she’s there for herself?” he asks calmly, keeping to the speed limit and ensuring I don’t fly off the rails with worry.

My nod freezes while his question sinks into my mind and I pause, slowly shaking my head as I think about it. “It could be her mom. I know she’s sick, but not the extent of it. It could be either one of them.”

“Alright. We’ll figure it out, love. I just need you to remain calm and collected and not like the jazzed-up vibrator you’ve become. I know you’re worried. I’m worried and I haven’t ever met the girl who has you out of sorts. But let’s not get carried away before we know exactly what we’re dealing with,” Laz instructs gently, patting my bouncing leg before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “How about you take some deep breaths for me, hmm? Calm your mind and focus on your breathing.”

I do as I’m told, taking deep lungful’s of air while I try to empty my mind. Easier said than done when worry infects every facet of my being, but I try nonetheless, inhaling through my nose and exhaling from my mouth.

By the time we roll up to the hospital, I’m much calmer than I would have been without my fellow alpha and packmate.

That only lasts until I spot her.

Standing at the counter, a stricken look on her beautiful face, Zira shakes her head at the nurse seated behind the reception desk. She looks paler that her usually creamy skin reflects, her minty-green eyes glassy with tears I can see from the entrance to the hospital.

I waste no time at all, my feet carrying me toward her before I realize I’m moving at all. I vaguely acknowledge Lazarus following after me, but my focus is solely on the five foot five inches of tiny omega with fiery-copper hair and freckles that would take me days to count.

The sound of my shoes must give me away, because Zira’s tear-stricken face darts over at me so suddenly that I almost stumble as I hurry toward her, only one goal in my mind and that is to reach her as quickly as my feet can carry me. My heart damn near stops at the pain in her eyes, the fear etched into every stunning feature of her face, and I’m damn near bowled over when I scent the sour notes of that very same stress infecting her usually soft, sweet, and creamy scent that normally makes my mouth water.

“Barnes?” she breathes, shock, relief, and confusion all melding into my name that falls from her lips like she can’t quite believe she’s seeing me stride through the hospital in an expensive tuxedo with my eyes on hers and nothing else.

I don’t reply. I can’t. I might growl if I so much as open my mouth, and that could very well scare the omega away. Instead, I grit my teeth and, when I finally reach her, I tug her gently into a hug that she melts right into with a stifled sob that breaks my heart in a billion pieces.

“Shh, I have you, Zira. I have you,” I whisper against her head when I finally feel like I’m not about to start releasing animalistic sounds that would scare even the most beastly predators.

Time passes, though I’m not sure how fast or slow. All I know is that Zira is here at the hospital, crying and stressed, and I haven’t a clue why. I just know that she needs me here, with her, cradling her against my body while she fights, tooth and nail, the soft sobs I can feel shaking her body. Her tears seep through my shirt, but I couldn’t possibly care less. Hell, she could take a knife to it and tear it up until it was nothing but tatters of material clinging to my body and I still wouldn’t care. So long as I have her near, I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give.

I can vaguely hear Lazarus speaking to the nurse behind the desk, using words like ‘pack’ and ‘family’ and ‘omega,’ though I can’t focus more on much else but Zira. I can’t tear my focus away from how she fists my shirt as she cries, how she presses her forehead into my chest so hide those tears from anyone who might be looking, or how she’s pushing closer and closer as my arms band tighter and tighter around her, hugging her so close that there’s no space for air to seep through.

Eventually, Lazarus leans in and whispers against my ear, “Her mother was brought in by ambulance after collapsing with shortness of breath and dizziness. It’s not looking good.”

I shut my eyes and clench my jaw, cuddling Zira closer as I run my hand over the wild strands of her fiery hair. It takes me a moment before I can speak again, and I pray my voice comes out soft as I intend when I ask, “What happened, Freckles?”

I feel Zira shake her head against my chest, her forehead pressed snug enough that I’m sure she could feel the beats of my heart thump against her. She doesn’t answer right away, sniffling and doing her hardest to try and pull herself back together. When she does, she pulls away from me and wraps her arms around herself as she presses her fingers to her mouth and breathes, “She needed a valve replacement, but we couldn’t afford it and our insurance wouldn’t cover it, so she refused to have it done. Didn’t want us in debt, because she’s stubborn. She thought she could get by if she didn’t do anything strenuous, despite me begging and pleading for her to have the surgery. She collapsed just walking from the kitchen to the living room.”

And then she’s crying again and I’m gently coaxing her back into the embrace of my arms so I can offer the comfort she needs and I’m all too willing to provide.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Laz offers, and it’s only then I notice he’s rubbing up and down Zira’s spine in an act of comfort that sets me instantly at ease. Must do the same for Zira, too, because she sighs out of a harsh breath and turns her head to rest her temple against my chest. As soon as she’s facing Lazarus, he smiles softly at her and I hear Zira’s breath catch. Her scent doesn’t change, her stress potent enough to mask anything less than her worry. “Your mum is in safe hands here. Trust that they’ll do all they can to make sure she’s alright.”

Zira nods almost reluctantly, sniffling once more. Just as she opens her mouth, a nurse enters the waiting room we’re still standing in, calling out, “Zira Favero?”

My fiery-headed omega scrambles from my hold so fast that I almost get whiplash, her dainty hands swiping at her wet cheeks and she answers, “Yes, that’s me. Is my mom okay?”

“We’re prepping her for surgery, but I wanted to let you know what room number she will be in for her recovery,” the nurse explains sweetly, smiling at Zira with compassion. “Would you like to wait in her room?”

Setting my heart on fire in the best way possible, Zira turns to look at me with a questioning expression, and I smile at her. “We’ll be right here if you need us, okay? You’re not alone.”

“Oh. Are you her pack?” the nurse asks suddenly.

“Yes, we are,” Laz answers just as quickly, and I widen my eyes at Zira in hopes that she’ll go along with it for just a moment.

“Then please, follow me. Miss Favero needs her family now more than ever, so packmates are welcome to stay with their bonded for emotional support,” the nurse explains while she leads us to a room that will house Mother Favero while she recovers from whatever caused this hospital visit and surgery.

“Thank you. We couldn’t possibly be apart from our little lady,” Laz croons, playing the part to perfection. I’d question him if Zira hadn’t claimed my hand in hers and squeezed tight enough that I’m sure she’s cutting off circulation to my fingers. I couldn’t care less. I’d lose each finger with easy acceptance if it meant she never let go.

“Then by all means, make yourselves comfortable here. We’ll update you all when we have more to share,” the nurse offers, guiding us into a sterile and clean room before departing again, leaving Zira alone with Laz and me.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I’m tugging Zira close once more, tucking her beneath my arm as I rub my hand up and down her bare arm. She remains silent, almost like she’s in too much of a daze to do much else than exist, and so I allow her to simply be for a little while. When she finally sighs, and leans further into me, I gently drop my chin to the top of her head and ask, “Do you need anything, Freckles? Something to eat or drink?”

I feel her shake her head before she quietly mutters, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’d say you were far from it, darling. You look pale. I’ll go fetch you a tea,” Laz informs, before striding out the room like a man on a mission.

Silence follows his departure for a long moment until Zira finally asks, “Who is that and why is he pretending to be my pack?”

I snort and sigh against her head before muttering, “That would be Lazarus Sharpe. Charming Englishman, excellent caretaker, and your new packmate.”

Zira blanches, turning impossibly paler, and I almost regret the words as soon as they slip free until she says, “Packmate. I didn’t know you had a pack.”

I smile softly, because there’s a great deal Zira Favero doesn’t know about me and my family, and I quietly tell her, “There’s three more where that one came from. I didn’t mention it because you seemed a little overwhelmed every time I was near.”

I pull back just in time to see her blush, a slight sweetness returning to her scent. It’s faint, but there, and it gives me hope for the future.

“You’re intense. Any sane person would be overwhelmed,” she mutters with another sigh, and I crack the first grin that stretches my lips over my teeth since the last time I saw her. Before I can reply, she wipes her hand over her face, removing the wetness of her tears as she says, “You don’t have to stay, though. I’m perfectly capable of being by myself while I wait. I’m sure you both have better things to do with your time.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Freckles,” I assure her instantly, leading her to a seat and claiming the one beside her. “We’re here until you don’t want us to be, okay?”

Her body deflates, almost like she was hoping I’d say as much without her asking for it, and I hold my hand out for her to take. She does, sliding her smaller hand against my palm, and links her fingers with mine. I place them both on my stomach, hugging her hand to my body, and she seems to relax that little bit further, seeking the comfort I’m willingly providing.

Eventually, Laz returns with three cups of tea, handing one to Zira first before offering me the second. Once he sits down, he smiles softly at Zira and says, “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”

Funnily enough, she does, taking a cautious sip of her hot drink and sighing.

“It’s not as good as the tea I make, but the hospital is limited on options, I’m afraid,” Laz jokes, lips twitching when Zira huffs with amusement.

“It’s fine. Thank you,” she breathes sweetly, hand clenching in mine and she leans into my side. “I already told Barnes, but I’ll tell you the same. Don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“I’m rather content where I am, but should that change, I’ll waltz myself right out of those doors,” he jokes, and Zira hums, taking another sip of her drink before falling silent, leaving behind the ticking of the clock that hangs above the door.

It only lasts a short while before Zira mutters, “I have no idea how I’m going to pay for whatever surgery she needs.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I answer, intending to do whatever necessary to ensure Zira is taken care of. If that means taking care of her mom by extension, then I’m willing to do what needs to be done. “Just worry about your mom getting better. Everything else will sort itself out.”

I share a look with Laz as Zira falls silent once more, a conversation spoken between us without the use of words. He nods, and Laz stands, softly excusing himself. I know he’s going to fix whatever bills need paying for Zira, and I hope she doesn’t get too mad about it. The last time I paid for something resulted in a prickly omega that cold shouldered me for two days. It was a sandwich, too. Apparently, the omega has a prideful streak a mile wide, but she doesn’t know that my pack and I are wealthy beyond reason. We have more than enough money to spend, and what better way to spend it than on medical bills for the woman that is occupying more than every waking thought I have.

When Zira yawns loudly, I offer, “Why don’t you rest a little. I’ll wake you if we hear anything.”

“Are you sure you want to stay?” she asks instead, and I huff a laugh.

“I’m right where I want to be, Freckles,” I reassure, squeezing her hand in what I hope is a comforting manner. “Try and sleep. I’ll stay right here with you, and I’ll let you know if we have any updates.”

Without putting up much more of a fight, Zira does exactly that, nuzzling her face into my shoulder before her breaths even out, her scent softening into its usually sweet-and- creamy banana-split fragrance I’ve grown obsessed with.

When Laz reappears sometime later, I raise an eyebrow as his eyes drop to the sleeping omega using me as a pillow. His entire demeanor changes, his shoulders dropping and a soft expression taking over his face, and he’s distracted as he says, “Everything will be taken care of. She won’t have to pay a penny for anything.”

I nod, relieved.

A relief that’s snatched away when he says, “I did have to keep up the ruse of us all being a pack in order to pay, so that might be a discussion for when she wakes. And I had to call Alek, because I didn’t have all the details needed to complete the payment. He’s going to pay for it over the phone shortly, so that’s one less thing to worry about.”

I blow out a breath. So much for doing this slowly. Apparently, Zira is going to be thrown into the deep end without warning. I’d feel more guilty for it if it didn’t mean she would be taken care of.

So, resigned for what’s to come and hoping things don’t blow up in my face, I sit back in my seat and take Zira with me. All the while, I’m thinking of every outcome to come out of this, what will happen next, and weighing up the risks of introducing her to my family before she’s ready. Now might not be the time or place, but if it means she has more people in her corner while her mom goes through surgery, then it’s simply a risk I’m willing to take.