Page 11 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

“Don’t forget the bad music,” Mason adds from across the table.

His voice is quiet but sharp, cutting through the haze clouding my mind.

“If I have to hear one more off-key love song, I might start growling. Fair warning.” He’s been watching me like a hawk all night, and there’s something in his gaze that feels.

.. knowing. He’s a beta with alpha energy.

He hasn’t said much but those eyes…fuck. Definite alpha energy.

I laugh, the sound shaky as I try to push back against this raging hormonal and horny bitch that’s trying to claw her way out from my chest. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mason’s lips twitch, just barely, and something about the way he looks at me makes my stomach flip.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your night.”

“Ruin it?” Jude interjects, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my shoulder. The motion is slow and absolutely maddening. “Please. We’re the highlight of this whole event. Look at us—charm, wit, devastating good looks...”

“Again with ‘devastating,’” I mutter, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the way my body is practically humming.

Jude’s smirk deepens, his freckled face way too close to mine. “What can I say? I’m consistent.”

By the time the DJ announces the last dance, I’m wound so tight I might snap. The weight of the pack’s attention, the lingering heat of Caleb’s almost-mark, the way the entire room seems to be watching us—it’s too much.

“We should go,” I mutter, twisting my clutch in my hands.

Jude pouts. “But I haven’t gotten my dance yet.”

“ Jude .” Liam’s voice is a warning.

Mason stands, adjusting his cufflinks. “I’ll get the car.”

Caleb’s hand slides from my waist to my lower back as he guides me toward the exit. His touch is warm, steadying, and infuriatingly familiar for someone I’ve known less than 48 hours.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.

“Adrenaline,” I lie.

He hums, unconvinced.

The cool night air hits me like a slap as we step outside. Mason’s SUV idles at the curb, Liam already holding the door open.

Jude flops into the backseat with a dramatic sigh. “Best. Wedding. Ever.”

I don’t move.

Caleb stops beside me, his gaze searching. “Leah?”

This is it. The moment I should say thanks for the fun, but this was all pretend, and I’m never seeing you again.

Instead, I blurt out: “You marked me in front of two hundred people.”

His lips twitch. “Technically, I almost marked you.”

“Caleb.”

“You liked it.”

I did.

Oh God, I really did.

My face burns. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” He steps closer, his scent wrapping around me—dark, rich, intoxicating. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

I should. This was supposed to be a one-time thing, a convenient arrangement to get me through my ex’s wedding without looking pathetic. Now it’s something else entirely—something that makes my skin hum and my pulse beat too fast.

“I don’t even know you,” I say instead.

“You could,” he replies simply.

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Tell us to walk away, Leah,” he repeats, “and we will.”

I should.

I should.

But the words won’t come.

Jude leans out the car window. “If you two are done eye-fucking, we’ve got beer at home.”

Liam sighs, and I hear his mutter of “Way to be subtle, Jude,” even from here. Mason starts the engine.

And Caleb? He’s still watching me, waiting.

I swallow hard. “One drink.”

What the fuck am I doing?!?!?!?!?!

His grin is slow, dangerous. “One drink.”

And just like that, I’m in way over my head.

The ride to their place is quiet, charged with a tension I don’t quite know how to navigate. I sit between Caleb and Jude in the backseat, acutely aware of how their thighs press against mine, of the way their hands rest casually on their knees, so, so close to mine.

Jude, for once, seems to have run out of words. He stares out the window, occasionally glancing at me with an expression that’s hard to read.

From the front seat, Liam clears his throat. “Leah, I want to apologize if what happened back there made you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t,” I say automatically, then immediately regret it when Caleb’s hand shifts slightly closer to mine. “I mean, it was... unexpected.”

“That’s one word for it,” Mason mutters from the driver’s seat.

“I thought it was badass,” Jude says, perking up. “Did you see how many people choked on their drinks? I counted at least three. Plus that one server with the dessert tray.”

“Not helping, Jude,” Liam sighs.

“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to cause a scene, go big or go home.” He nudges me with his elbow. “And you two went nuclear.”

Heat floods my cheeks. Caleb’s scent—that dark chocolate and something richer, earthier—still clings to my skin where his teeth grazed my neck. I press my thighs together, grateful for the shadows hiding my reaction.

“Can we please talk about literally anything else?” My voice comes out strained.

Jude’s fingers drum against his thigh. “Fine. Let’s talk about how you’re shaking.”

I am. Fine tremors race through me, leftover adrenaline and something else—something that tightens low in my belly when Caleb’s knee brushes mine in the cramped backseat.

Liam turns from the passenger seat, his golden hair haloed by passing streetlights. “She’s in drop. Post-adrenaline crash.” His clinical tone doesn’t match the way his gaze lingers on my parted lips. “We should get fluids in her. Electrolytes.”

“I know exactly what she needs,” Jude purrs.

Caleb’s growl vibrates through the car. “ Enough .”

The alpha command shuts everyone up.

Mason’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. Jude exhales sharply through his nose. And me? I writhe at the dominance in that single word.

Silence stretches.

Then, Caleb’s calloused thumb strokes my inner wrist where it rests in my lap. A silent apology. A question.

I don’t pull away.

Jude watches our joined hands like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “So. Your place or ours, Omega?”

Mason turns onto a tree-lined street. “Ours is closer.”

Liam glances back, his blue eyes dark. “If that’s... acceptable to you.”

Caleb’s thumb stills. Waiting.

Every sane thought screams danger. But the champagne and the scent-marking and the way all four of them are looking at me?—

“One drink,” I whisper.

Caleb’s smile is slow. Predatory. “One drink.”

The car purrs to a stop outside a modern townhouse. Moonlight glints off the windows, the sleek lines, the enormity of what I’m about to do.

Jude flings open his door with a flourish. “Welcome to the lion’s den, Red Riding Hood.”

Caleb pins him with a glare. “Don’t call her that.”

But when his large hand engulfs mine to help me from the car, his grip is gentle. “Changed your mind yet? We can take you straight home if that’s what you want.”

The terrifying answer?

No.

“No,” I say. “I’ll stay.”

His smile makes my stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with champagne or wedding cake. Because there’s a look in his eyes that suggests he’s hoping for much more than that.

And the scary part? So am I.