Page 61 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

The alphas from the Ward pack, the ones who came in last night and busted me out, step into the room.

“Hey, man! Good to see you up and awake this time,” Chase, the chipper blonde member of the pack, says, raising a hand to wave at me.

“Good to see you too, guys,” I say, nodding back at them.

Madden, the tall, muscled Southside member of their pack enters the room, holding the hand of their omega, Luna.

She waves at the four of us before her gaze lands on Reyna and she freezes.

Her free hand comes up to cover her mouth as she lets out a gasp.

“It’s you!” She whispers.

Reyna’s eyes go wide with fear and she does something none of us would’ve ever expected.

She turns, opens the window, and throws herself out of it.

CHAPTER 17

Reyna

Throwing yourself out of a window isn’t fun, let me tell you.

Luckily, it was only a first-floor window, but I still threw myself out headfirst.

My hands are bleeding from where I caught myself in the mulch before making a run for it. I’m sprinting like a bat out of hell, my arms and legs pumping like I’m running for my life.

Because there’s a part of my brain that feels like that’s what I’m doing.

The entire room erupted into shouts of shock and alarm when I ran, but I didn’t know what else to do. There were eight alphas in that room. There was no way I was running away through the main door.

The thing is, I know that pack. Well, not really. I’ve never actually met any of them in person.

I do know their omega, though.

Luna Ward.

She’s got golden blonde hair and these big, blue eyes.

The picture-perfect definition of innocent. Of an angel, or some shit.

I met her when a Northside councilman locked her away in the basement of another club. I was covering a shift for Roxie, just dancing on the floor for some tips, when I caught wind of a girl in the basement with a fucking gunshot wound.

When I went down to see what I could do, I found Luna.

She was a sweet little thing, far too sweet for the world I was living in. Plus, she had a rich, Northside pack who apparently treated her really well.

So I did the only logical thing to do: I called the Southside member of her pack from a payphone to let them know where she was. It wasn’t like their contact information was hard to track down, considering they posted it on their website.

I found out later on the news that she was rescued.

No one other than her knew it was me and I intended on keeping it that way. If anyone in my life—my old life, fuck I have to get used to thinking like that—found out I did that?

I would’ve been screwed. I mean, you only have to take one look at Stone to know the people I worked for didn’t take well to Northsiders. Or people who worked for Northsiders.

“Wait! Oh my god, stop running so fast!” I hear from behind me.

Except, it’s not who I expected.