Chapter Six
Dax
“Pack meeting!” Archer called out as soon as he parked his car in the driveway. My stomach twisted as my mind conjured up the worst-case scenario. Maybe his meeting didn’t go well and he lost a client. Perhaps he’d gotten into an accident.
There was no end to my overthinking. Sometimes it consumed me, which was why I liked to spend every minute of every day working in some fashion.
Action was the enemy of anxiety. Archer told me that.
He read books like most people breathed.
It wasn’t my thing. Reading was too still, almost encouraging my wild mind. The last thing I needed.
I closed the chicken coop and went inside where Talon was already making dinner. Archer came in from the front with three cloth bags. My wolf picked up the powerful sweetness of honey—and something else equally intriguing.
Archer’s eyes were wide, his movements rushed and frantic, out of character for him. He was usually composed and calculated. Everything he did was methodical. Planned. “I have news.”
“You got honey?” Talon asked, flipping the chicken in the pan. He was making his lemon chicken and pasta.
“What? Honey? Oh. Yes. I got it, but that isn’t the best thing.”
“You landed that client,” Talon continued, his back to Archer.
“Yes. Client. Human. Contracts signed. I have something important to tell you. Better than honey or money or clients. These.” Archer tossed two of the bags on the table. He moved the bowl of fruit from the island before spilling the contents of the third bag on the surface. “Smell them.”
“What?” I asked, but soon that question was moot. Sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg filled my senses, driving my wolf to want to come out and find out the source of the smell. “What? Where? Who? Name?”
I never claimed to be a smart man, but my staccato questions all but confirmed my lack of intelligence.
Talon turned off the burners and stepped toward the island.
I approached at the same time and picked up one of the cards.
It was made of sturdy paper, like a greeting card, and had a watercolor painting of a body of water and a small fishing dock on the front.
The art was great, but the scent…I put the card to my nose and inhaled deeply.
Fuck me.
“Where did you get this?” Talon demanded, mimicking my motions, pressing a card with a sunset painting to his nose.
“I was on my way home from seeing that client and stopped at the farmers market. These are her cards. Our omega. She paints them. An artist. She wasn’t there, but she will be next weekend.”
“Ours…” I whispered more to myself than them.
“We’ll be there. We have to. Do you know her name? Was there a picture of her?” Talon was freaking the fuck out and, I had to admit, so was I.
“No. I don’t know her name, and there was no picture of her. It doesn’t matter. My wolf doesn’t lie. She’s ours. Don’t you smell it?”
Nods all around. Her scent permeated my cells and, even though it was just a hint of her, it was powerful.
“The house isn’t ready,” I said, muscles tenser by the second. My temples throbbed, a panic attack coming on.
“She isn’t moving in immediately, brothers. We have to court her. Dax, it’s fine. We’ll get everything ready.”
I stepped back from the pile of cards. I had yearned for our omega. Craved her without knowing anything about her. And now that she was real, the possibility of an omega was real, I was coming unglued.
Not only an omega but a scent match.
The rarest kind of mating. The most precious.
And she had to settle for an alpha like me.
No family other than my pack. No money to my name. A fucked-up foster care past.
And just…me.
“We can’t. I’m not. I’m me.”
“First of all, you’re more than enough.” Archer poured some of his alpha power into his voice, calming me. “And we’re a pack. There are three of us here to provide for her and protect her. Besides, there’s more to being mated to an omega than tending to her material needs. So much more.”
“You are more than what you earn,” Talon corroborated. My pack was good at helping me know my worth but at times like these, my lack of self-worth poured back in like a flash flood.
“Maybe. I-I need to run.”
I turned before I could be any more pitiful and sprinted out the back door. My pack followed on my heels. My wolf was emerging. He often did when I was freaking out.
My wolf burst from me. All my worries faded to the background while we ran. Our property went on for forty acres, a huge piece of land we bought not for the dilapidated house but for the running space.
My pack ran behind me, always supporting. We raced along until my mind quieted and I was distracted by a bunny hopping in the distance.
I gave chase but it got away.
Shifting, I kicked a tree trunk. “Fuck. I can’t even catch a rabbit. I’m not ready. I’m not good enough for a mate. I’m not…”
Archer propped his hands on his hips. “Dax, you’re enough. We all are. Get that shit together before next Saturday, okay? She’s out there. Our fated. Our true mate. The one we were made for.”
“Yeah,” I said, the scent now engrained in my senses. “Yeah, okay.”
“Let’s go eat and make plans. We need to get that nest done this week if possible.”
Plans I could get behind. I might not be a genius like Archer or a good cook or rich like Talon, but I could provide for her in other ways.
I’d smother her with kisses and affection.
Tell her I loved her every day. Make sure she knew she was beautiful and wanted and needed—things I wished someone would’ve said to me.
I might not be the best alpha. but I would be the best alpha for her.