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“Probably not.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m just the beta, remember?”
I scowled. “It’s bullshit, but it kinda helps. Kellan seemed weird when he left me. Can you just check on him?” I rubbed my chest where the urge to seek out my alpha and comfort him had flared to life.
He pressed his lips together. “You got it, pretty girl.” He kissed my forehead before leaving me at the front door.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for whatever was to come next. Because with Omega Services, there was just no way of knowing. It made me edgy and uncomfortable. I wanted my pack and my nest.
When I yanked the front door open, with probably a little more force than necessary, the scents of pissed off alphas hit me in the face, and almost sent me scurrying back inside.
Crew and Rhett turned to face me, both scowling with their arms folded across their chests. They were total opposites.
Rhett, with his dark hair and stormy eyes, was dressed in a suit, like he’d just stepped out of a boardroom. Crew’s hair was lighter, his eyes a shock of blue. Instead of the lithe build that Rhett had, Crew’s frayed jeans and a tight black shirt molded to display his impressive muscles. He looked like he’d just finished a shift at the local construction site.
If Rhett was a panther, Crew was a lion.
And I was the canary they both had managed to catch.
Opposite them stood three people, three. I recognized one of the men as Agent Willis that I’d met in the hospital, but the other two weren’t familiar. A soft wind from the South sent their scents straight to me.
The smaller man in a rumpled suit seemed to be shrinking back behind Agent Willis and the other, much larger, man with them. Without a doubt, I knew the other man was an alpha. His scent was sharp, like freshly cracked pepper, and strong enough that it made my nose twitch.
“Miss Jones,” Agent Willis greeted, his beady-eyed gaze raking down my body.
I hadn’t exactly dressed for company, so I was still in fuzzy pajama pants and one of the guys’ shirts. If this asshole expected a prim and proper omega, then he could go home to his own.
But there was no need to antagonize the jerk who had the power to make my life difficult, so I pushed a smile onto my face. “How’s Hillary?”
His brow wrinkled, like he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him. But it was the other man, the alpha who spoke. “My omega is fine.”
It rankled, the way he spoke about her like she was a possession. I wasn’t Hillary’s biggest fan but his tone and affect seemed so wrong. Like asking about her welfare was a crime. Plus, I never would’ve pegged this alpha and Agent Willis as being in the same pack.
I met the gaze of the new alpha, until he hit me with the full weight of his censure, glaring at me like I was in the wrong to even glance his way. I sucked in a breath and took a step back toward the house.
Crew was in his face within seconds. “Don’t fucking look at her.”
“Crew,” Rhett implored, sounding a little bored, “let’s just get this over with. Agent Carson knows he’s only here as an escort so Agent Willis and Dr. Berthand can do their job.”
“Doctor?” I echoed, my gaze jerking to the smallest man and the small, black leather satchel he carried.
Again, Agent Carson looked ready to strangle me for speaking. “Is the omega always this outspoken?”
“If it bothers you so much, feel free to get the fuck back in your car and drive away,” Crew suggested. “You’re an uninvited alpha on an established pack’s property with their new omega. Watch your tone, Carson.”
Dr. Berthand cleared his throat and stepped forward, giving me a tremulous smile. “I’m here to ensure you are well and intact, Miss Jones.”
“Intact?” I repeated, struggling to figure out what that meant. Did he mean virgin? Because it was damn near impossible to go through a heat with a pack and stay a virgin.
Agent Carson scoffed. “She can actually form complete sentences, right? If she’s mentally altered, we’ll need to note it on her PLI profile.”
“He means unbitten, dove,” Rhett clarified, his tone glacial as he stared at Agent Carson. “Agent, I’m not sure I like your tone.”
“And I don’t like your pack, but here the fuck we are,” Carson growled. Agent Willis smirked like he actually had a shot if this turned into a physical fight. He seemed to be enjoying the display of testosterone poisoning.
Carson was average size for an alpha, putting him a few inches shorter than Crew and eye level with Rhett. But where Rhett was all svelte muscle and grace, Carson looked like an angry bull with a red face, thick neck, and barrel chest.
Crew gave him a terrifying grin as he took a menacing step toward Agent Carson. “Hazel, go inside.”
“Please, please,” Dr. Berthand pleaded, stepping around the two packs facing off. “I simply need ten minutes to examine Miss Jones, and then we can leave.”
