Page 74 of Pack Plus One

“We’ll know if something’s wrong,” I continue. “And if it does, we’ll deal with it then.”

“And in the meantime?” Caleb asks.

I settle back down against the wall. “In the meantime, we wait. We protect. We respect her choice.”

The elevator dings at the end of the hallway, and we all tense as heavy footsteps approach. A stocky man in his fifties rounds the corner, keys jangling at his belt, his expression darkening when he spots us.

“What’s going on here?” he demands, his voice carrying the authoritative edge of a beta who’s used to being in charge. The name badge on his jacket reads “Building Manager.”

“Just visiting a friend,” Jude offers with his most charming smile.

The manager’s nostrils flare—even with his dulled beta senses, he can probably detect the pheromones we’re all putting out. His eyes narrow. “All four of you? Camping in my hallway?”

“We’re concerned about our friend,” Mason explains smoothly, stepping forward. “She’s not feeling well.”

“Uh-huh.” The manager crosses his arms. “I’ve had three complaints about alphas loitering. You’re making the residents nervous.”

Caleb straightens to his full height, a low growl building in his chest. “We’re not leaving her.”

The manager doesn’t back down, which I have to grudgingly respect. “This isn’t a hotel lobby, gentlemen. You can’t just set up camp here.”

“You don’t understand,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I understand plenty.” He taps his nose. “Been managing omega-friendly buildings for twenty years. I know what’s happening, and I know you boys think you’re helping, but this is still private property.”

Mason places a restraining hand on Caleb’s arm as his growl deepens. “We’re concerned for her safety,” Mason says, his tone reasonable. “The scent of an omega in heat can attract unwanted attention.”

“Which is why this building has scent-dampening technology in the ventilation system and security at the entrance,” the manager counters. “We’re equipped to handle this situation. What we’re not equipped for is four agitated alphas stinking up my hallway with territorial pheromones.”

“Beta,” Mason corrects mildly.

The manager waves a dismissive hand. “Three alphas and a beta, whatever. Point is, you need to clear out. You’re welcome to leave a note, or call her, or whatever modern courting rituals you kids do these days. But you can’t stay here.”

I glance at the others, seeing the conflict on their faces. We could refuse, could try to intimidate this man into letting us stay, but that would only make things worse, possibly bringing actual security or even police. The last thing Leah needs is that kind of drama outside her door.

“We understand,” I say finally, standing up. “But can we at least leave these supplies for her?” I gesture to the pile Jude assembled.

The manager’s expression softens slightly. “I’ll make sure she gets them.”

“And can we check on her?” Mason asks. “Just to be sure she’s okay?”

“One of you, once every few hours,” the manager concedes. “But no camping out. I’ll have to insist on that.”

Caleb looks like he’s about to argue, but a significant look from Mason silences him. “Fine,” he grits out.

“Thank you for understanding,” the manager says, his tone softening now that the confrontation has defused. “For what it’s worth, I do think it’s nice you boys care so much. Just try to care from a more appropriate distance, alright?”

We gather our things, leaving the supplies for Leah neatly stacked by her door.

“I don’t like this,” Caleb mutters as we head toward the elevator.

“Neither do I,” I admit. “But making a scene won’t help Leah.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Jude asks once we’re outside the building.

“We take shifts in the car,” Mason decides, practical as always. “One of us can check on her every few hours, like the manager said. The rest stay close, but not in the building.”

“I’ll take first car shift,” Caleb volunteers immediately.