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The tension in the air was palpable, and my instincts were screaming at me to diffuse the situation. I didn’t want them upset.
“So, can I ask a question?” I set my half-eaten slice down.
Rhett and Jude turned to face us as Crew nodded. “Anything.”
“Are you all… together?” I knew Rhett and Jude were obviously more than just packmates, but I wasn’t sure about Kellan and Crew. I didn’t have much experience with pack dynamics, and I wasn’t counting Donovan and his council of merry fuckwads as a pack.
Crew looked contemplative for a beat. “We’re not big on labels, and we’re also not a pack that follows a lot of the stricter, more hierarchical laws.”
“Such as?” I asked, genuinely curious. Being raised as a beta meant I didn’t really get an introduction to pack life. Most packs were strictly alphas and an omega. Occasionally a beta or two would become part of a pack, but because they couldn’t bite in the way alphas and omegas did, the connection was less primal.
“Rhett and Jude are very much a couple,” Kellan said, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But we’ve all been… together in one way or another.”
I was quiet, letting that mental image take shape. And holy hell, I needed to see that in person.
“Does that offend you?” There was a sharpness to Rhett’s words, like he expected me to be disgusted.
“Not at all,” I replied. “I just don’t want to push my way into a pack that doesn’t need me.”
“You know alphas go into ruts, right?” Crew posed the question almost innocently.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied. My high school designation class had covered that alphas had ruts, usually triggered by omega heats. It was biology’s way of encouraging reproduction. Admittedly, I’d been fourteen and more prone to giggling at the clinical photos in the textbook of an alpha’s knot, but I knew the basics about heats, ruts, and packs.
“Right.” Crew smiled. “As the amount of unbonded omegas has dwindled, alphas have become more and more prone to feral ruts.”
“Yeah, every couple of months there was a news report on it.” I frowned, remembering when the evening news would show videos of an out-of-control alpha losing his shit. Sometimes it resulted in violence—from assault to murder—and sometimes it ended in suicide.
It was one of the biggest reasons why Donovan had brought Logan into the APA. He let the alphas use Logan as a way to keep their primitive urges in check.
“Packs help stabilize alpha pheromones and impulses,” Crew went on, “but sometimes, it’s not enough. It’s part of why the government started hiring male omegas to spend time with alphas close to going feral. Male omegas can’t give birth, but they do have the right biology and pheromones to center an alpha.”
“Okay,” I dragged the word out, still not following.
“An established pack can take the edge off an alpha,” Jude jumped in with a smile. “So, sometimes, if Kellan or Crew are getting a little too close to feral…”
My mouth dropped open. “Oh. So, you’ve… I mean…”
“Gotten all the dick?” Jude winked. “Hell yes.”
“Cheeky bastard,” Rhett muttered, shaking his head, but he was clearly fighting a smile as he gazed at Jude with adoration.
I giggled. “You sure I won’t be cramping your style?” I teased Jude.
“Hell no.” He grinned at me. “My ass could use the assist. Literally.”
I tipped my head back with an outright laugh, the sound bursting out of me in a way it hadn’t in years.
“Fuck, I could get addicted to that sound,” Kellan whispered, his beard tickling my throat as he kissed the underside of my jaw. His arms wrapped around me, a hand splaying across my lower belly.
Heat unfurled in my core, a pulse of fire shooting through my limbs that left me dizzy. I gripped his forearms as a whine clawed out of my throat.
The room went deathly silent and still, the potent scent of alphas wrapping around me.
My stomach clenched in a painful cramp that stole the air from my lungs. Slick gushed between my thighs, filling the room with my scent.
“Shit.” Crew pushed back from the table.
Kellan’s arms became steel bands holding me close as a purr rattled from his chest. “Omega.”
