Page 139 of Pack Choice

“Pleeeeaaase,” she begs, tugging on his arm. “That one has unicorns.”

Uh huh, so she’s not averse to unicorns after all. “How about we go after Uncle River’s race? If your daddy thinks that would work,” I add quickly.

“There’s a lot of people out on the streets,” Ford says, eyeing the crowds through his shades.

“We’re in Monaco,” I tell him. “Nothing’s going to happen to us in Monaco.”

“You’re still an omega,” he says, lowering his voice so Harper can’t hear. Not that she’s listening, she has her nose pressed to the window watching a group of teenagers being flung around in a teacup ride. “And now half the world thinks you’re dating River Caspian too.”

“We can take some of River’s security with us, just to be extra safe,” I say.

“I’ve always wanted to ride the carousel,” Harper says dreamily, and it’s clear Ford can’t resist.

“Okay, but as long as we can take backup.”

I land a big kiss on his cheek which has Harper eyeing me with suspicion, and then we’re driving through a set of gates into a VIP section, where the people seem to have even more money than the already-wealthy residents of the city. The roar of engines and the smell of gasoline greets us as we emerge from our vehicle, and a woman hurries over to clamp ear defenders on Harper’s head and usher us passed a parking lot filling with multimillion dollar cars, champagne bars and through a tunnel to a private box. It’s filled with cushioned seats at the front, our own waiter hovering at the back, and a huge screen on one wall. In front of us is the track, the finish line mere yards away and, though the race is yet to start, the whine of engines assaults our ears.

“Mr. Caspian has poll position,” the woman informs us, pointing to the screen where we can see River striding towards his car, his helmet tucked under his arm. Around us, people scream his name and he waves to the crowd, despite the other drivers that trail behind the alpha.

“Uncle River!” Harper yells, eyes glued to the screen. We watch as he places the helmet on his head, chatting to a few technicians hovering around the car. Then he jumps inside and we can hear the rev of an engine above the noise of the crowd.

My eyes flick between the track out there in front of us and the screen, zoomed in to focus on River’s face. He’s frowning in concentration, his gloved hands twitching against the steering wheel. The commentator lists a string of his titles over the loudspeaker and there’s more screaming. Then the picture switches out to the traffic light, blinking red red red orange and green.

I squeal and cover my eyes with my hand, suddenly unable to watch as twenty engines roar to life, the noise so loud my brain vibrates in my skull.

“He’s going to be just fine. Bastard always is,” Colt says, right by my ear.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’ve watched enough of his races. At first they used to scare me shitless too, but then I saw – then I understood – that River is a damn good driver. The best in the world. Have confidence, omega.”

I hear brakes squeal and I yelp. “I can’t watch.”

“It’s only the first bend,” he chuckles. “You know there are about thirty of them, right?”

“Oh lord. I think I might be sick.”

“Come on,” he says, taking my elbow and leading me to the seats. He sinks into one and drags me onto his lap. Behind us, I can hear Harper chattering away to Ford with animation, the alpha struggling to elbow a word in sideways. “He’s left the others for dust, sweetheart. He’s making his way through the old quarter now. Maybe keep your eyes closed for this part. These bends are incredibly tight.”

I squeal and bury my face in his neck, taking calming gulpfuls of his scent and focussing in on the pound of his heart, attempting to block out the crowd and the TV.

“Halfway now,” Colt says. “You want to try to watch. It’s the coolest part of the track, right along the harbor front.” I shake my head. “Okay. Stay right there then.” He curls his arm around my waist, stroking his hand up and down my back. “No one’s even close, sweetheart. He’s doing just fine.”

“He could still crash,” I wail.

“He won’t,” he says and the way he says it reminds me how my brother talks about his packmates. With utter confidence and belief.

“Is he going to hate me if I can’t watch?”

“You could do about anything you wanted, Omega, and that man would let you. I’ve never seen him so indulgent with an omega.”

I smile into Colt’s neck, then remember that there are probably all sorts of cameras directed our way. Ava said the public were obsessed with River’s frequently empty box. Rumors are already circulating that I’m his girlfriend. Now there’ll be pictures of me sitting on another man’s lap to add fuel to the fire. I decide I don’t care. I’m far too happy in the alpha’s lap to care.

“Three quarters of the way now, sweetheart. We’re nearly there.”

I fist my hands in my shirt. “Does this really get easier?”

“Yes.”