Page 3 of Pack Choice

I drag my own set of notes toward me. I haven’t touched them all night. I’ve had no cause to.

Which is just fine. I may want to find my forever pack, like every other omega on the planet, but that is looking more and more unlikely. I’m happy with that. Perfectly happy.

I peek at his name badge. The way it’s pinned to his jacket means I can only read his first name.

Colten.

I write the name Colten in the first name box on my notes. I leave the pack name blank.

“Where’s your pack?” I ask him.

He continues to scribble away, not lifting his gaze to reply. “I don’t have one.”

“You didn’t bring your pack to this speed-dating event. You realize you have no chance of—”

“No, it’s not that I didn’t bring my pack. I don’thavea pack.”

I gape at him and he lifts his gaze back to mine.

“You don’t have one?”

He’s at least 30, probably older. And he doesn’t have a pack! Doesn’t have a pack, and yet is here attempting to court omegas anyway.

“Why not?” I blurt out. All the alphas I know fell into their packs early on in life, finding other men they wanted to form a life with, and hunting for a mate together.

“I don’t want one.”

“You don’t want one?!”

“No, I’m a lone wolf.”

I pick up my pencil and scribble in big capital letters, right by this dude’s name: RED FLAG.

“What the hell does that mean?” he says gruffly, peering at my handwriting.

“Exactly what it says.”

“It isn’t a red flag. I don’t want to live that way.”

“Uh huh.” Or nobody wants to live withhim. Probably because he is an asshole.

“I don’t want other alphas in my life. I want to find an omega and give her all my focus and attention. And I want all of hers in return. I’m not prepared to share,” he says sternly, in a manner that has my insides tingling despite myself.

My stupid insides don’t always know what’s best for them.

Another lesson I’ve learned the hard way.

I lean forward in my seat. “Have you ever been with an omega in heat? Because if you had, you’d know there is no way in hell one alpha is enough to meet all an omega’s needs.”

“I’ve been with plenty of omegas in heat,” he says, also leaning forward, his eyes darkening. “And I can assure you, I’ve met all their needs.”

“I can assure you,” I reply, “you haven’t.”

We stare at each other and the air seems to warm several degrees, his scent swimming in my senses.

“Well,” he says, breaking the moment with a smug smile, “next time you’re in heat, maybe we could test that out.”

“No, thank you,” I say, smiling at him sweetly.