Page 13

Chapter 13

Parker

I stare at Harlow’s office door, my knuckles white as I clench my fist. The pack’s voices echo in my head—their arguments for why I should be the one to approach her about this.

“She responds best to you,” Asher had said. “And Jagger adores her.”

My nephew. Everything I do is for him and now Social Services are pushing for a “proper family environment.” A legal pack structure would solve that problem instantly.

It helps that Jagger lights up around her, making her the obvious candidate. But asking her to pretend to be part of our pack? To essentially lie? My stomach churns at the thought that her answer lies on me .

I raise my fist to knock, hesitating as doubt creeps in.

What if she says no?

What if this ruins the easy rapport we’ve built?

What if—

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Asher’s name flashes across the screen. I take three quick steps away from her door before answering.

“What is it?”

“You need to come to the clinic. Now.” Asher’s voice carries that edge of urgency I’ve learned never to ignore.

“I was about to—”

“Now, Parker.”

I glance back at Harlow’s door, torn between duties. But Asher’s tone leaves no room for argument.

“On my way.” I stride down the hallway, my shoes pounding against the polished floor.

The conversation with Harlow will have to wait.

I push through the clinic doors, finding Asher pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. His usual calm demeanor is gone and replaced by tense shoulders and a furrowed brow.

“Just get here, Olly. Now.” He ends the call and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“What’s the issue?” I lean against the table, crossing my arms. Something about his energy sets my teeth on edge.

Asher stays by the window, his back to me. The early afternoon sun casts his shadow long across the floor. “Did you know Carver Sinclair is here in Los Angeles?”

“I know Pierre is talking to him.” I keep my voice neutral, though my gut tightens at the name.

He turns, his face grim. “I’ve heard from good authority that he’s playing for us next season. That he is on the verge of signing. ”

“Okay. He's a brilliant player. ” I draw the words out, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There has to be more to this emergency than a potential new player.

The door swings open and Oliver strides in, his practice gear still on. “What’s the emergency?”

“Carver Sinclair—” Asher starts, but Oliver cuts him off with a sharp gesture.

I watch Asher raise his hand, silencing whatever Oliver was about to say. “He came here for her.”

“Harlow,” I murmur, my mind racing. “But he’s her ex’s brother.”

Asher’s laugh holds no humor. “Think about it. You said it yourself. You know he wanted her. And remember all those team parties? While Colton was working the room, who was always by her side?”

"Carver is known as the ice-man, he keeps everyone at an arm’s length, but not her. He gravitated to Harlow at every event," Olivier starts. "I used to watch him. He’d lean in close when she spoke. His eyes always tracked her movements whenever she was around. Even the charity gala last year,” Oliver continues. “Colton disappeared with some sponsors, but Carver stayed with her all night.”

“And I was in New York at the time and attended his brother’s rookie draft party,” Asher adds. “She was sick, and Carver took her home instead of staying for his brother’s celebrations.”

“And now he is here.” My voice lowers as I wonder if we've missed our opportunity. "For her."

Oliver waves his hand dismissively. “Not just her. He’s here because we’re the better team.”

I shake my head, remembering countless conversations with Pierre, our owner. “Pierre’s been after Carver since he was a rookie, but he always refused to leave New York. ”

“He didn’t want to leave her,” Asher says quietly. “His brother’s girlfriend.”

Oliver’s face drains of color as the implications sink in. “I thought he would never go there. Touch his brother's ex-girlfriend.” Asher and I turn to Oliver. “And he knows she's an omega. Probably, he’s the only other person who does know she’s an omega.”

“How do you know?” Asher asks Oliver.

“Remember, I told you to believe in me. When I asked you to not leave this pack. That our omega was so close. It was always her."

Asher nods.

“But Carver also knew. And he knows that I know,” Oliver says.

I scrub my hand over my stubble jaw, feeling the roughness against my palm. “And he wants her.”

Oliver smiles. “But even Carver knows she’ll need a pack.”

“I like Carver as a hockey player, but not as a pack mate,” I growl.

Oliver sighs. “Her scent is powerful to us. She inhaled you at the club so she likes how this pack smells. But what if Carver’s smell is the same to her?”

I shake my head as Asher pulls the blind to the side, peering out the window. “I’m expecting them back from lunch any minute now.”

“What the fuck!” Oliver bellows.

“Yeah, they went for lunch together. He picked her up in a Porsche.” Asher’s voice has a hint of resignation but is soon covered as the roar of an engine rattles the windows.

Carver’s sleek sports car pulls up.

“How much is he fucking signing up for?” Oliver hisses, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding outside.

Carver steps out, walks to the passenger side, and opens the door for Harlow, his movements tender and attentive as he takes her hand .

They stand together. Carver’s palms cup her cheeks as he speaks to her, and when he presses a soft kiss to her lips, there’s a collective groan from us.

Harlow nods as she turns and walks back to the office. Carver’s eyes are on her the entire time.

Harlow glances up at the window, her eyes meeting ours briefly before she looks back at Carver, and back to us.

Carver looks at where she was looking and when he sees us, he gives us a casual wave as a smug grin spreads across his face.

She’s not his. She is ours.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to Asher and Oliver. “I’m going to go talk to her.” I know I need to tread carefully, but Harlow is our omega , our missing piece.

I wish I realized how much I wanted her before now. Especially as Carver’s claim on her is undeniable.

Asher nods, his brow furrowed in concern. “Be gentle with her, Kai.”

I offer him a reassuring smile. “I know. I’ll handle this.”

With that, I stride out of the clinic, my steps purposeful as I make my way to Harlow’s office. I pause outside the door, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. This could change everything for our pack, and I need to approach it with care.

Knocking lightly, I push the door open and step inside, my gaze immediately finding Harlow’s. “We need to talk.”

My stomach knots.

This isn’t just about pack dynamics anymore. Or her belonging to our pack. She's our omega but I also can’t risk losing Jagger. Not after everything we’ve been through.

Even if I have to lie.

“Talk? Okay,” she says, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension.

I step into Harlow’s office, shutting the door with a soft click behind me.

Her gaze flits up from her desk, the look of surprise is endearing.

I take a seat across from her, the weight of this conversation is already pressing down on me. I know how much my pack wants this, I do too, but there’s more at stake for me.

“So, you and Carver,” I start, gauging her reaction. The way her cheeks flush crimson tells me everything I need to know.

“We’re friends…” She straightens in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, protectively. “And I’m his agent for his new contract with the team. We just went out for lunch to discuss it.”

I swallow hard, the knot in my stomach tightening at the lie hanging in the air between us. “I heard.”

I take a moment to steady myself. This isn’t about Carver’s feelings for her; it’s about Jagger—my nephew. It's about my pack.

“But I have a favor to ask you.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Okay.”

“I have a problem. A really big problem. And I need your help.” My heart races.

“My help?” She bites her lip, waiting for me to continue.

“You remember Jagger? My nephew?”

“Of course. ”

My chest tightens further as I recall how effortlessly she connected with him, and he hasn’t stopped talking about her since.

“Jagger took to you straight away,” I admit. “He’s never been so chatty with anyone before now.” The thought of him struggling to find his voice again makes my stomach churn.

“Aw, that’s nice.”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, my pulse racing like a runner, preparing for the final push to the finish line. “And… And I wondered if you’d pretend to belong to our pack.”

Her eyes widen as she processes my words. “Me?” Disbelief is etched on her face.

Harlow remains staring at me, shock radiating off her in waves. Her mouth opens and closes as if she’s searching for the words that won’t come.

“Why would you want me? Can’t you ask the nanny?” Her voice is so gentle, it’s barely a whisper now. I hear the disbelief in her tone. Actually, not only in her tone, but it’s written all over her features.

“She’s married, and you’re…” I say carefully, wondering how far I can push this idea without scaring her off entirely. “You’re perfect.”

She leans back in her chair, processing what I’ve just laid on the table between us. The silence stretches like a taut wire, ready to snap at any moment.

“So you want me to pretend to belong to your pack so...”

“Because I need to keep my nephew. I’ve had custody of my sister’s son since her death, and now his biological father wants him back.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “Now I have to do what she wants, and that means I have to convince Social Services that I’m better for Jagger than his shit father.” I keep my voice steady, but the weight of my sister’s death hangs heavy in the air .

Harlow’s eyes widen, the gears in her head turning as she processes my words. “What happened?”

I swallow hard, my throat dry as I delve into the painful details. “Jake... he was never around. And my sister had pregnancy complications. He took too long getting her to the hospital, and by the time the ambulance arrived…” I hesitate and stare at the ceiling and back to her. “She died on the way to the hospital. Jagger almost didn’t make it.”

Her breath catches as I speak, tears shimmering in her eyes. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” I reply, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Jagger was stuck with a father who didn’t care about him for two months, before he handed him to me.”

She nods. “But now he wants him back?”

“Yeah, and Social Services thinks Jake is ready to be a father, and that Jagger needs a more stable environment.” I hesitate. “And as Jake now has an omega, he’s put in an application to have Jagger returned to him.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching Harlow’s expression soften.

When I finish speaking, I reach out and take her hand in mine. The moment our skin connects, electricity zings down my spine.

“But I’m not an omega.” She smiles. Her warmth radiates through me like sunlight breaking through clouds on a gloomy day.

My heart races as her scent envelops me. And I have to rein in my inner alpha that wants to tell her she is wrong. But this isn’t about me; it’s about Jagger. And about getting her closer to my pack.

“I know.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “But you can pretend to be. You can pretend that you’re our pack’s omega.”

“Oh,” she whispers.

“You’ll only need to be at the house when Social Services visit. ”

“I don’t need to live with the pack?”

I shake my head. “Unless you want to.”

Her eyes open wide and she shakes her head. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“We’d still have a room for you so they believe you do live with us,” I tell her.

Her eyes are on mine. “Can I have a couple of days to think it through?” She hesitates, uncertainty flashing across her face. “It will give you a couple of days to work out how it will work.”

“It’s just a fake relationship,” I assure her quickly. “You’ll pretend you’re mine, Asher’s, and Oliver’s girlfriend.”

Her eyes pop out of her head as she processes what I’ve just suggested.

“I’ll pay you.”

“What! No.” Her voice rises, shock replacing the concern from moments before.

“Look,” I say, trying to keep this grounded while pushing through my own rising panic at how badly I need this plan to work. “This isn’t charity; it’s just business for both of us.”

“Business?” She narrows her eyes at me, defiance creeping back into her stance.

“Yes,” I insist, feeling the tension crackle between us like a live wire. “It’ll help me protect Jagger from his father.”

I’m just not sure what part of the business arrangement will help her.

Unless, of course, she wants more in the end.