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I requested Du Monde to seat us near the windows, and we had a perfect view of the bay. Fenella’s head swiveled as she took in the large column in the middle of the restaurant. Gold painted metal bars ran down its middle and reached out across the ceiling like tree branches. Giant light globes hung from the branches and added to the low candlelight of the table. There were more than a few eyes on us, and this date would be in the gossip pages tomorrow.

Pan leaned forward, chasing her mind-scrambling scent like a teenage alpha who had no control. Lloyd reacted slower, nosing the air before he realized what he was doing. He pried his gaze away from his phone for one moment to stare at Fenella. A crease appeared between his brows.

“Of course, we’re pleased you joined us. Shall I take your jacket?” Walden poured her a glass of water. His tone was even and warm, but the flex of his jaw made a sigh bubble up my throat. Lateness was unforgivable to Walden. He was a stickler for respect and manners. Even her alluring scent couldn’t sweeten the sour beginning in his mind.

“Oh, I’ll keep it on. I hope you weren’t waiting too long?” Fenella preened under the attention other diners sent our way.

She tossed her hair and snapped her fingers at the server wandering past. A wave of her scent cascaded over me, distracting me from the sharp tone she used to order a cocktail.

But her delicious scent couldn’t save the disastrous date, which only worsened.

Fenella responded to Lloyd’s every attempt to engage with loud and exaggerated stories. It was a strange show of one-upness. She didn’t know we had a background check done on her and it showed as Fenella tried to twist her history into something it wasn’t. Lloyd tried to reciprocate, but Fenella’s eyes glazed over, and her attention drifted around the restaurant instead.

I didn’t want to believe Fenella was doing it on purpose. But when Walden or Pan added something to the conversation, her eyes popped open in rapt attention. Lloyd gave up, channeling his frustration into his dark phone screen. He kept flipping it over, drooping when it showed no notifications.

Walden shifted the conversation to the Baylark Foundation. He waved his hands as he launched into a proud explanation of the One-Hundred-Year-Gala we were planning.

One hundred years since Esta Hartlock successfully changed the law regarding omegas being able to vote.

“The museum has a few stipulations for lending the Hartlock artefacts. But it wouldn’t be much of a celebration if we don’t have something from the lady herself.”

“Either way, I’m sure the gala will be an incredible success.” Fenella’s lashes batted in my direction.

This was the last thing I wanted. I hoped whoever came into our pack would help pry Walden away from work. He’d been even more obsessive since the last public event we held, and its disastrous ending.

“Tell us more about yourself, Fenella,” I interjected.

Pan gave a sharp bark of laughter, and I didn’t have to look at him to know he disapproved. Of the question? Of the date? Who knew with Pan?

“Oh, I grew up near The Barracks and I’m hoping to start a family soon. My mom is upset I haven’t given her grandchildren, but all parents hound them for that, don’t they?” Her light giggle made me wince.

Pan’s smile only grew, and my stomach twisted. “Well, I do love breeding,” Pan sneered, and Fenella’s sure smile faltered.

“We understand family pressure very well, don’t we?” I hurried to add, shooting Pan a warning glance. He tossed a look at the ceiling and waved over a server.

“Five shots, please. As fast as you can, I beg you.”

Dizziness washed over me as he ordered the spirits. Did he think we’d all partake and pretend alcohol didn’t make him a complete nightmare? If we’d been alone, I would have berated him, but I didn’t want our dirty laundry aired in front of our date. Walden’s face turned dark, and he crossed his arms over his wide chest. His white button strained up from the tension. Fenella was oblivious to the dangerous undercurrent.

“Shots, I haven’t done one of those in years.” Fenella dabbed her napkin against her red lips and fluttered her lashes in my direction.

“Tell me, Fen. Can I call you Fen?” Pan leaned closer to her, wrapped his elegant, tattooed fingers around her hand. Fenella blushed and her eyelids dropped in a sultry squint. She didn’t protest him scent marking her gland.

“You can call me whatever you like,” she whispered to his lips.

The dim light from the candles flickered on her face.

“Do you think we’re stupid?” Pan stroked his free hand down the side of her face.

Fenella jerked at his words, and she flashed her white teeth to mask her unease. Walden tilted his head and frowned. Lloyd let out a soft sigh and my heart crashed hard against my ribs.

“What?” She tried to pull back, but Pan’s nose jammed against the pale column of her neck.

Eyes burned into the back of my head, and there was a subtle rise in muttered conversation around us. We were in a fishbowl, and it was the only reason we stayed motionless. Walden clenched his jaw as we both held our breaths, waiting to see what mischief Pan planned. It was a fine line, balancing what was real and what the public saw.

Baylark Pack had a reputation to uphold. One tarnished from Pan’s reckless behavior in the past.

“Pan,” Lloyd chastised, and Fenella slumped with relief as Pan pulled away.