AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mansion, rather. Colonial style, two stories, palm trees and jacarandas outside, and it reeks of old money.
Small wonder my parents chose this pack for me. For them, money is security and security is happiness, as well as a guarantee they won’t be stuck supporting their omega son someday.
Their greatest fear, apparently.
Or second greatest, after their fear of me finding a poor pack and then having to support all of us.
As if I’d ever ask.
Once when I was about eight, I broke my ankle and I walked up to my room without telling anyone. Sometimes I felt I’d be smothered to death by their worry and their rules. And yeah, I know it’s normal for parents to worry.
But like I told them—and Eric—a million times: I’m not a child anymore, dammit.
It feels like I have to prove it every day.
Taking a deep breath, checking the address on my phone again, I climb the steps to the porch and ring the bell. It echoes from inside the house, a sound of bells. The door is enormous. It even has a bronze knocker, old-fashioned—or maybe just old.
The longer I stand here, taking in this mansion, the more sweaty my hands become. I mean, sure, I come from money, too, but new money. Does it matter? Not sure, but here I feel as if I’m on the doorstep of a palace, waiting for a butler to open the door and lead me to his masters, the royal princes.
I feel like I’m supposed to know which fork and knife goes with which dish, and that I should have worn a formal suit and tie. Or maybe a bow?
A bow tie, at my neck, not me jumping out of a gift box with a bow around my waist. Now that would have been a sight to behold…
All in all, I feel unprepared.
Oh God, my hands are shaking. I shove them into my pant pockets. My jeans pockets. Like I said: woefully unprepared. And unwilling.
Is there still time to turn around and go before they know I was here?
But steps echo from inside the house and the door swings open. A man is standing there, tall and big-shouldered, his green eyes blazing under a mop of black hair.
He says nothing, and I swallow hard. The urge to turn and go hasn’t left me.
“Hi,” I manage. “I’m Sawyer.”
After a moment, he nods. “Come on in. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Ezekiel. Welcome to the lair of the Ulfrig Pack.”
“Lair.” I whistle under my breath. “Okay.”
He steps back and I walk into the house, instantly greeted by the rest of the pack. Three of them, and all of them look like alphas, huge and hulking.
Oh, God.
“No butler,” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying, I’m glad there’s no butler to open the door and usher me inside.”
One of them chuckles. He’s blond and freckled and built like a brick shithouse. “You’re a funny one.”
“Am I?”
Quickly they introduce themselves—Jake, Atlas, Titus, and of course, Ezekiel who opened the door for me.
They lead me deeper into the mansion, sharing secret glances I can’t decipher. Do they find me silly? Ugly? Stupid? Annoying?
And why are all the adjectives provided by my brain negative? How about they find me funny, clever, handsome? Sexy?
