Page 6 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

“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.

The server arrived with a tray of shots and Pan downed them one after the other with militant skill. My skin crawled. Pan hissed as he slammed the final one on the tray. The server picked up empty glasses with trembling fingers.

“Thanks,” Pan said as he peeled out of his chair. A panther ready to lunge for the kill. “Darling Fen, it seems strange that you wouldn’t know scent stealing is a crime.”

Fenella’s hand flew to her neck, and all the color drained from her face. Her lips pressed together like flattened worms. I was about to stop my brother again, but something in his face made me stop.

Determination and cold honesty. He wasn’t playing games this time.

“E-excuse me?” she squawked, her eyebrows jammed together, and she bundled her napkin into a tight wad and tossed it on the table.

Walden gripped the side of his chair, his knuckles white as he used everything in his arsenal to not explode. My brother clicked his tongue at Fenella’s display of outrage.

“You smell decadent, delicious, and infinitely desirable. But it’s not your scent. It clings to this pretty outfit only. You’ve also been sweating bullets this whole date. Guess what your neck smells like now? Aloe vera.”

“That’s a lie,” Fenella snapped.

Lloyd flinched as the legs of her chair screeched with her retreat.

It drew the unwanted attention of diners around us.

Pan leered at her, and her nose scrunched up.

The mouthwatering scent Pan insisted wasn’t hers, wafted over, and I grasped the faintest crisp aloe underneath.

My throat burned with an influx of acid.

“I think it would be best if we called it a night,” Walden said.

His nose twitched, and I knew he caught the same tendril I had.

The one that proved my mercurial brother right.

Pan’s lips ticked up as he leaned over the back of his chair. “If you think you’re going to get one over the Baylark Pack, you’re going to have to try harder, sweetheart.”

Fenella’s mouth gaped open. For a moment, I considered backtracking, apologizing on Pan’s behalf. Especially when Pan smirked at me over the table, knowing he was right.

“You’re going to let him accuse me of this?” Our date tried to claw back her cool facade.

The words were sharp and sliced through me. Walden went stiff, his eyes narrowed.

Him?

Pan laughed as he stood and reached over to wrap a finger around a chunk of her red hair. He let it slide like silk over the tattoos and black painted nails.

“I might be drunk, but I’m not an idiot. This isn’t the first time someone has tried to bluff their way into our pack, and it won’t be the last, I’m sure. My packmates like to see the good in people, but I’m a cynical bastard. So, scurry out of here with what little dignity you still have.”

Fenella swiped his hand away with a snarl. “Y-you are—.” Her lips pressed together, and she looked at Lloyd, the beta she’d ignored all night, as if he might step in on her behalf, but he stayed silent.

Pan wasn’t finished, though. “Oh, and you can tell whoever’s scent you stole she’s got a one-way ticket to the Pan express if she wants a wild ride.”

Fenella’s nostrils flared, but she bit her tongue and strode out of the restaurant. The surrounding tables chattered as she left, and my stomach sank.

Pan watched her leave, his eyes unnaturally bright.

“Pan that was—” I spread my fingers on the white tablecloth.

“A spectacle,” Walden muttered under his breath.

“You’re welcome.” He curved his arm under his waist in a mocking bow. As he lifted his arm it caught Lloyd’s wine glass, and it careened to the ground.

Walden’s jaw clenched, and I knew it took monumental effort for him to hold his tongue.

“That was an accident.” Pan kneeled to pick up the scattered shards of glass.

“Just leave it,” Walden bit out and he pulled out a stack of cash as a server rushed over with a dustpan and brush. “Forgive us for the mess. I’m sorry, but we can’t stay to finish our meal. If there are any issues with the bill, you have my number.”

The server ducked his head. There would be no issues. This might be Du Monde, but we were Baylark Park and there weren’t many places in Starhaven that wouldn’t make concessions for us. The power of having a legacy pack name.

Walden stalked out of the restaurant.

“How did you know?” Lloyd bumped his hip with Pan as we followed.

My head spun. I’d barreled over all the red flags with Fenella. Her refusal to remove her jacket, and the strength of its scent in the material should have tipped me off. But I’d explained everything away, wanting to find the perfect person to help our pack.

I’d done nothing but create more cracks. Pan accused me of being desperate and he wasn’t wrong.

“I got hard the minute I smelled her. Only an omega can manage that, or Walden. Especially when he’s angry.” Pan slid Walden a look.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as we waited for the valet to bring the car around.

“Well, I guess home it is.” Lloyd’s eyes widened, not disappointed at all. His hand twitched over his pocket where his phone was.

“Pry yourself away from your catfish. Please.” Walden carved his hand through his black hair with a frustrated noise.

Pan clapped his hands, and a sardonic grin cut a sharp line across his face. Our beta liked to listen before he opened his mouth and measure his words carefully. His friendship with Pan baffled me, because Lloyd was so relaxed, like a soft breeze, and Pan was a gale.

But they balanced each other like the eye of a storm. There was very little that could ruffle Lloyd. But Walden’s sharp comment was his limit. Salt hit the back of my throat as Lloyd hiked his shoulders back.

“Not here.” I frowned, aware of the sifting crowds searching for shelter from the brisk winter breeze. My nose was cold with it. Walden ground his teeth and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Sybil? No, it was a disaster. Du Monde, of course. I want anything negative suppressed. Yes, including private videos. Yes, Pan was seen drinking. It was nothing like… you know. A minor incident, smashed glass. No more date suggestions from you, by the way. Say hello to the other two and try to mitigate their disappointment. You won’t be getting a sister-in-law soon.

” Walden tucked his phone into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How are your sisters?” I asked.

“Fine. Busy. Having them run our PR is such a load off.”

I hummed with agreement. Trying desperately to stave off the confrontation I knew was coming. Lloyd, our mediator, had checked out and was staring at his phone.

“Did I embarrass you, Walden?” Pan pouted.

I tugged on my brother’s arm as the tension in Walden’s jaw turned to steel. His temper was like frayed rope, and Pan was a flickering flame burning the edges. Pan wrenched his arm out of my hold, glaring at Walden, who found something of interest in the inky sky.

Walden had been my friend before he’d been Pan’s lover.

We bonded over our love of history, and the Starhaven Historical Society I founded had been a joint effort for a little while.

When Walden and I connected in college, it was like finding a soul that understood mine.

I saw underneath his facade, to the alpha who managed perfection I could only dream of.

He was my brother by fate. Sometimes I thought I knew him better than Pan should have, considering their relationship.

Pan liked to push Walden. Sometimes the Baylark heir needed it, glued to his work and the pressure of legacy. But not right now. Walden rarely snapped, but when he did, it was explosive.

“Come on, guys, let’s not do this here,” Lloyd sighed.

“Why are you angry at me? I saved us the embarrassment of being used.”

“And I thank you for it.” Walden crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I understand. I made a scene, the unforgivable sin.” Pan’s voice cracked, the only sign that Walden’s silence bothered him. “It wasn’t as bad as last time.”

Last time.

We all cringed, and Walden’s shoulders lifted to his ears.

Like he wanted to block out the memory and Pan’s voice.

The concierge brought the car to a stop, and Walden slid into the driver’s seat without replying.

Nobody wanted to go back to that night. When Pan snapped in public.

If he told us why, it might be easier to move on, but he remained defiantly thin-lipped.

“Get in the car, please.” Walden stared straight ahead.

Lloyd jumped into the back, leaving Pan and me alone. Pan stared at Walden with red-rimmed, glassy eyes. His breath smelled like spirits. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. His shoulder was bony, and it didn’t yield to the comforting touch. It felt strange for both of us.

Pan and I were close in age, barely two years, and growing up, we’d been thick as thieves. The Mythos brothers against the world. Swinging our imaginary swords and conquering gods.

If only we could have stayed in our daydreams.

As soon as Pan showed talent for the piano, a skill his late father possessed, our parents’ attention locked in on cultivating him.

Our fractured relationship only worsened when my best friend became enamored with Pan as well.

Now we were in a pack together, a family we chose.

But it was as dysfunctional as the one I’d been born into.

I didn’t know how to comfort my brother. To be honest, I struggled to even try.

He was a hurricane, leaving debris in his wake.

Breathtaking, magnetic, and deadly.

He wasn’t any of those things at this moment. Walden’s distant manner made him forlorn. His shoulders crumpled inward, and his face was strangely vulnerable. He caught his wobbling bottom lip between his teeth.

“I didn’t mean to hit the stupid glass,” Pan muttered.

The knot in my stomach tightened.

“I know. It’s just, after last time… Pan, please,” I groaned as my brother stalked away from me and got in the passenger side.

Why did everything have to be so combative between us? The buzz he cultivated from the shots could quickly get out of control. I considered arguing with him, dismissing the thought as it flashed through my mind. Pan was an expert at sparring with words, and my skin was thick to everyone but him.

Walden tapped his fingers on the car door, interpreting the look on my face correctly. “Don’t bother.”

Walden knew firsthand how wild Pan could get.

He tried so hard to control him, to help him, but Pan was unpredictable.

I don’t know what happened to my brother to make him stop playing piano and become intent on drowning his genius with oblivion.

I’d lived my whole life with his dark, mercurial energy.

Shadows clung to my brother, and he used them like whips on the people he loved.

“Another night for the books.” I shook my head as I hopped into the car.

My chest burned, wondering why it felt like abandonment when Pan shut me out.