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Pack Vore has come into the refuge and, like they are the sun, they draw the eyes of everyone around. People love and respect them. They have impeccable reputations, and everyone who is anyway wants to be around them. I’ve seen the pack a lot in the past year. With each passing month, they look colder, harder. No one seems to notice, though. They just see what they want to see. And Pack Vore are wealthy, talented, and extremely attractive alphas with no mate.
They never look at me with any kindness, not like they used to, not when they courted me. Seeing them reminds me of how awful I was, so I don’t look forward to their appearances. Despite it being near impossible not to stare at them and remember the way they were.
Ian spots me, and his hard gaze holds me captive. I turn my head away in jerky movements, wishing I could slow my heart’s reaction to his glare. Their story is as tragic as mine. Their omega found another pack and chose the rich alphas over her scent matches. It’s the type of thing I would have done, so I understand why they hate me. It’s just the only people I know who could understand what I’m going through are right there. They are really incredible guys, they just hate me like everyone else.
They aren’t exactly wrong. There was a moment when I thought we could have been something, had something, but I blew it.
The thought of ‘what if’ keeps me up at night, laying alone on my cot, remembering the way he said my name. When I picture my pack, I don’t see these faceless men. I see Pack Vore. I have since I met them, those first few days of the Omega Meet before Silas Hastings gave me a ticket to ruin my life.
It’s sick. It’s perverted. It’s punitive. I can’t stop from seeing them, dreaming about them, fantasizing about them.
No one knows about my pack. No one knows I mourned for strangers for months. I don’t even know their names; I didn’t ask. Pack Vore met theirs. They caught her scent, had a meeting, and she chose another pack. It’s worse in a way than what I’ve gone through. I just want to ask if they’re okay. I just want to tell them I know how it feels and that I’m sorry.
What a joke. They’re talking to Jenny now, and she’s fluffing her grey hair. Several of the hired workers are giggling and standing close, waiting for Jenny to leave so they can pounce.
I sigh heavily and close up another box. It takes me a moment to get a label on it and slide it out of my way. I grab another empty box and start piling the folded up clothes into it.
If I had known this pack was respectable, had power, had influence, would I have turned them down? Pack Vore is everything I wanted all those years ago. I did not know at the time that they could have been the answer I was seeking. But I’m not bitter. Even when they think I’m the same omega they used to know.
Sometimes I want to scream at the world. Shout that I’ve changed. I had to change. I’m better. I’m different. Other days, I want to run somewhere new, a fresh start.
But I love my sister. I really do. I never appreciated how much she did for me. Not until she was gone. I have to make up for what I did wrong. That’s the only reason I’m still here.
“Silver?”
I jerk my eyes up and find Ian standing there. Right there, beside me. I break into a cold sweat and drop my gaze to the table in front of me. Shit, how did he get so close? I vividly remember standing before him when he looked at me with kindness and interest. That’s long gone. Disdain is the expression of the hour. Distaste is the perfume that flavours our interactions.
“Hi, Ian,” I say softly. “How can I help you?”
Why does he smell so good? Like sandalwood.
“Still working here?” His blue eyes trail over the deft way I pack the last box. His hair is too long, I like it better short, he’s got the kind of blond hair you want to run your fingertips through. And he’s tall, much taller than me. The kind of tall that when you hug them, you know you’re going to feel safe and protected.
“Yes. The refuge needs me,” I whisper. Shame is an oozing wound inside me. I can’t look at him, I don’t deserve it.
He frowns. “I find that hard to believe. They could get along without you, surely.”
I wince. He’s not wrong. I’m just a set of hands. I’m not important. “Look, Ian, I just work here. This is what I do now. I’ve changed. It’s been three years. People can change.” My voice takes on a desperate sound I dislike intensely. It’s not making a speck of difference to him.
He curls his lip and glances over my shoulder. My heart jerks, lifting into my throat and strangling me as I catch their scent. Pack Vore are the only pack from my past that speaks to me anymore. I don’t really have anything to do with the packs, and I try to avoid anything to do with my sister.
I want them to like me.
Weston and Quinton close the distance. If Ian’s tall, they are giants. Thin, lanky giants with black hair to their chins. They’re twins but not exactly identical. Weston’s hair has a wave, and his smile is crooked. He’s much happier and more extroverted. Quinton is more serious, with harder blue-grey eyes than his brother. But the way they smile, especially at each other, is everything to me. It’s like the world doesn’t even matter, it always captivates me.
They make me ache for the could-have-been relationship with my twin.
The last member of Pack Vore is Ross. He’s shorter than the others, and he’s always humming or playing his guitar. His voice is unreal, but when he combines it with the intricate strumming, you can’t look away. Ross plays magic, not music.
I’ve spent so many stolen moments secretly listening to him play, brushing away tears. His music reaches in and touches my soul. He brings out all the yearnings I have but can’t voice. He exposes me.
Ross has kind eyes that are green with tiny flecks of gold. His front tooth is chipped, and he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. His perfect, joyful soul shines out of every pore on his body.
The pack moves in my direction. I can feel them all around me, but then I catch sight of something else. Something that can push even Pack Vore from my mind.
The door opens, and I still, spotting my sister and her omega, Dylan. Damn it. I spin on my heel and stalk towards the locked doors that will let me back in the refuge. Ian grabs my arm right as I get to the glass door. I look over my shoulder, panicking when I see Onyx getting closer. She’s spotted me, is staring at me, she’s saying something, but I can’t hear over the rush of panic.
“Let go.”
