Page 6 of Pack’s Prize

“Well,you knowwhy people come here, don’t you?” she asked, tilting up her chin. “I assume you wouldn’t want me spending time with other packs, if I’m supposed to be courting you, right?”

Her jaw was set seriously, her shoulders straight. She wasadorable: fierce and small and bold.

My fists clenched.

This was dangerous, I knew.

I was halfway gone for this woman already, and I’d barely spoken two words to her.

Maybe I was just a little less bohemian than Michael and Theo, a little more traditional, for better and worse, but I couldn’t help my background; I was just a kid from Minnesota, not an artist like Theo or a rebellious rich kid like Michael, who was leaning back against the back of the booth, nodding. “That is correct,” he said.Only ours, my instincts agreed.

“Right, so, I’m anomega,” she said, simply. “I have… needs. My heat, for one, but also outside of that. And besides, it will look better for your purposes. More authentic.”

Her scent, her perfect beauty, the way her eyes flashed with determination in the low light of the club, even after Michael had spelled out what was undeniably a terrible plan… I wanted her, and I’d never been any good at keeping my heart out of the equation.

If she seemed perfect to me, not for pretending, but for real…

“You understand that we don’t plan on courting you in any real way, during or after the arrangement; this is strictly contractual,” Michael said, and a worm of guilt wriggled in my gut.

She nodded.

“Well,” Michael said, grinning at her, then me, “if that’s what you want, omega…” He pulled out a card from his suit pocket, passing it to her over the table. I knew what it said:Michael Stoll, Stoll Galleries.“I have a strong feeling that this will be amutually satisfactoryarrangement.”

CHAPTERSEVEN

Ava

I had considered returningto the dance floor, but the flutter in my stomach, the burning heat of desire in their eyes as they stood up, excusing themselves, wishing me a pleasant night as I sat half-stunned at their abandoned table…

I somehow knew that any alpha I found out there among the dancing crowd wouldn’t have quite cut it, not now that I’d met them.

They had felt different, from the moment Theo held out his hand to me, to the quiet, devouring way Elias had looked at me, to the brush of Michael’s fingers against mine as he passed over his business card.

There was something… different about them.

Theo, Elias, Michael. I tried out their names in the quiet of my bedroom-slash-living room-slash-kitchenette. It was filled with boxes I hadn’t been able to stomach unpacking yet. Everything would smell like Roman.

Tonight though, I smelled not like the musty clothes I had hastily shoved into those boxes, but of sweet smoke and cedar and whiskey, still lingering on my skin and in my hair like a promise.

I slipped out of my party dress and into an old tee shirt and a pair of soft sweatpants I had cut the legs off of to make into pajama shorts. Half of my old high school’s mascot was visible at the hem, a wolf’s eyes just peeking over the edge where I’d hacked off the rest of the fabric.I should buy some proper pajamas, if I’m going to be having sleepovers. Maybe even some new lingerie.

I washed my face haphazardly, then looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I had really done it.

I had gone to Ardor and gotten myself a date.

I had let a strange alpha–not Roman or his packmates–touch me.

His touch.

I shivered.

I wanted more of it.

Duh, I thought as I fell into bed.I had been so distracted by the shimmering heat that washed over my skin every time his fingers brushed mine–and so desperate for more–that I had let myself be talked into… whatever nonsensical arrangement I had found myself signing up for. A fake courting, in exchange for sex. “I want you to fuck me?” Had I really said that?

I groaned, and burrowed into my blankets like a mouse.