Clay
As the glorified runner of the pack, it’s my job to sort things out that Teddy either can’t manage by himself or when he can’t be bothered and turns those big, begging eyes on me.
That Beta would have made a better Omega than most, and he knows just how to play his Alpha.
So, here I am, out in the city at the nearest supermarket to the ranch with a list as long as my arm.
Not only that, but I’m standing in the pasta aisle wondering whether wholegrain is an acceptable substitute for the spaghetti on the list, or if another option like penne would be better.
Theodore—Teddy—wouldn’t bother his ass, he’d just grab whatever fits.
Lucas would scowl at it. Sighing, I grab a pack of each and throw them in the cart.
As always, I take a trip through the home section of the store, grabbing a couple of spare mugs and a spoon to replace the ones that Atlas bent whilst hammering through his very top secret ice cream stash.
The one he still believes none of us know about, yet he never buys any new ice cream for it, because we top it up.
Something catches my eye, and I stop. A warm, tingling feeling spreads through my very bones as the shelf with the blanket draws me in.
There, a dark navy blanket, threaded through with purples and silver streaks in some sort of galaxy print, and mottled with bright stars that pulls at my Alpha.
Huh, I’d never say I’m out of touch with my instincts, but this is new and unusual.
My Alpha side is pretty quiet, tucked away at the back of my mind, but he is here now, insisting that there is some sort of importance to this.
Drawing the blanket to my cheek, I rub it against my face, my Alpha nodding in delight at the softness I feel as the threads catch on my scruff.
It takes a loud throat clearing to snap me out of my trance and turn to the teenage staff member glowering at me.
“Please don’t scent the products, sir.” She sighs in that world-weary way that can only be managed by retail staff, “I’ll have to de-scent it now.
” When she reaches to take it from me without asking, we both freeze as the deep, possessive growl escapes from between my lips.
My free hand flies to cover my mouth as the mortification sets in.
“My most sincere apologies, ma’am,” It comes out in a rush, “We just found our Omega and I… She… I’m buying it.
” It’s a lie, well, everything but that last part.
We’ve had no luck with the bonding agencies or scent searchers yet, but I’ve embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime, and it only took five whole minutes.
Beating a hasty retreat, I groan, the guys are never going to let me live this one down.
Bolting towards the checkouts, I know I’ve forgotten a few things, but I can stop at another store on the way for the rest. But I can’t stay here.
Of course, my day isn’t going badly enough when I've paid and make my way towards the door, only for the heavy-built security guard to step into my way, shielding the teen from earlier. He’s got nothing on me, a few inches shorter than my six-foot-four, and I probably outweigh him by thirty pounds.
“I apologized already,” My shoulders slump as I remain still, letting the guard check me as I lean heavily on the cart, “I’ve never growled at anyone other than my pack in my life.”
The guard gives me an easy smile, holstering a little laser thermometer that he used to check my temperature and waggling his brows, “You’re running a temp, buddy, best warn that Omega about a rut, yeah? And leave the shopping ‘til you ain’t growlin’ at kids.”
Bowing my head to hide the fresh flush of color and twitch of a smile, I bob in agreement and pass them both, offering another regretful smile to the staff member.
The sight of the black four by four is salvation in the lot as I pile the bags into the truck and toss myself into the driver's seat. Just when I think it’s done, my head drops forwards to rest on the rim of the wheel, and I hit the horn.
The resulting blaring beep nearly sends me through the roof.
I need a drink or a nap. Anything to calm my shattered nerves.
Thankfully, the rest of the drive home is uneventful, the city left behind as the mountains loom to the North, and I watch the peaks as I hit the quieter country roads.
The heavy tree line is the last stretch before the turn-in for the mile-long drive to the ranch, and Teddy’s big gray mare grazes along the fence line by herself.
Pulling up in front of the rustic old house, I take just a minute to catch my breath.
The open air out here is a salve on a wound, no press of bodies and overwhelming scents—just pack and home.
Teddy’s ranch is far enough from the city to be a pain, especially in winter, but close enough so that it isn’t truly remote.
Feeling the anxiety bleed from me with each rise of my chest, I don’t even jump when our sweet Beta knocks on the window to say hello.
Smiling back at him, I can feel the stress of the day returning to tug the sides of my lips down.
Teddy. He is my person, and I can never hide my worries from him, especially after his accident last year. Life is too short to keep secrets.
Stepping out of the car, I grab the collar of his shirt and tug him closer softly, waiting for him to rest his cane on the car so I can fully embrace him.
There are a few inches between us; Teddy’s not the shortest, but Atlas and I easily outmatch his five-foot-ten frame.
Fury’s only a little taller than him, and Luc is only an inch shorter.
I’m still stuck in my head as he pulls me down to his lips, losing myself in the roughness of them.
I need to remind him to use the damn lip balm again.
It’s a chaste kiss, just a welcome home, but it helps ground me a little, and I wrap my arms around him, squeezing tightly before releasing.
Everything melts away as we carry the groceries in, and by that, I mean I carry everything except the lightest bags that I give to Teddy.
He insists he can do more… But he’s still healing, so I don’t want to push him.
By the time everything is in its place, and I’ve put the dishes away that Fury left drying on the rack before work, we start dinner.
Teddy hobbles around me on his prosthetic, a little unsteady at times, but he’s walking freely now, and it gives me hope; maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll get back on the horses again. I know he misses it.
Both of our phones buzz at once, and I catch Teddy shrugging before moving back to the hob and setting the potatoes to boil. Pulling my own phone from my pocket, I open the group chat.
AlmightyLeader: Pack meeting when we get home
AlmightyLeader: I’ll bring dinner in
Me: Don't bother, Teddy’s already started on dinner.
Me: You know he gets grumpy when food gets wasted.
Lucasshole: Bring beer.
With that, I watch the pings shoot back and forward for a moment, Fury arguing with Lucas over the finer beers available, before I shake my head and go back to helping with grub.
I love our pack, truly. Being one of the most recent members alongside Atlas, it finally feels like our little family is complete, aside from having an Omega between us all.
But—and there is always a but—dinner times are chaotic at best, and even worse when Fury calls meetings.
Our Cardinal takes his seat at the head of the table when he comes in, his usual relaxed slouch replaced by a ramrod straight tension, bouncing his leg and staying uncharacteristically quiet as he takes us in.
Banter and talking about our days are the meat and potatoes of dinner time, and keep us close as a pack, especially on rare days like this when we are all together for dinner.
Lucas creeps in just after the two of them, settling in his chair opposite Fury.
Atlas just has this dazed, dreamy look on his face, walking around like he’s not all here, and occasionally sniffing his shirt.
“We met our scent match tonight. She’s not just an Omega, but a shifter too.”
Silence.
Not even a breath leaves any one of the five of us around the table.
Our world is shattering around us as he says those words, and I think about what happened in the store earlier, that beautiful galaxy print blanket resting in the sterile white nest in the loft.
Stillness reigns until Lucas stands, scraping his chair along the floor and setting his full plate next to the sink.
“Luc, sit.” It is as close to a bark as I’ve ever heard from Fury, but Lucas barely budges, stopping in the doorway, dark arms straining against the order beneath his perfectly creased shirt.
His face is guarded, but we can all see the pure agony on his features.
“Atlas met her, too, confirmed the match.”
Lucas turns in the frame, leaning against it and heaving as his Alpha writhes against the order still, but his golden eyes are molten against bronze skin.
Brows slam down, and he lifts his lip, hissing like a cornered snake.
“I cannot do this again, I told you already. I will not.” With that, he shakes off the pull of the bark and retreats.
I’ll stick my head in later to check on him, or Teddy will, he’s not so angry when it's one of us.
“Fury,” I begin, fingers drumming on the table as I scoop some chicken and potatoes into my mouth, “Whassa plan?”
Grinning wickedly, our Cardinal lights up, hands flying in exaggerated gestures as he talks about her.
“We’ll be attending the auctions next Monday in the city.
Goddess, you should have seen her, Clay.
She just sat in the bar like she owned the place.
Domed an Alpha with one of my whiskey glasses.
Stunk up the place with her spicy little cocktail scent.
” He swallows hard, adjusting his pants and coughing.
Atlas chuckles, scratching his beard and licking his lips, a faraway look in his eyes.
“She came in wearing a dress like a flaming sunset, muzzled and all, escaped from the auctions and just decided to hide across the street. She’s fucking incredible. Had to hide my hard-on all night.”
He looks dazed and halfway in love already.
Fury might be a playboy, but he’s always been like that.
Flicking between women quickly keeps his heart from attaching itself to them, but he looks seriously dazzled by this Omega, and that’s saying nothing for Atlas, who doesn’t have a thought between his eyes except for her.
“What does she smell like?” Teddy asks, tilting his head. As a Beta, his nose isn’t anywhere near as good as ours, but I know he’ll be mixing it up later before bed and taking a good, long drink.
“Something rummy,” Fury swoons again, “She smells like a good, hard rum, with a lime rind and a sprig of mint.”
I can taste it on the tip of my tongue, and it has need settling low and heavy in my gut, tingling the bottom of my spine.
Leaning back in my chair, I catch the movement of Lucas vanishing up the stairs at the tail end of our discussion, snooping like a teenager.
Turning back to my Cardinal, I see him catch the movement with a wry twist of his lips.
“Get out your best suits, gents, we’ve got an auction to attend.”