Page 27 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

Caleb’s growl vibrates through the air before I even see him. It’s a sound that raises the hair on the back of my neck and sends a treacherous pulse of heat through my core—primal, possessive, lethal .

“Step away from her,” he says, voice deceptively calm. “Now.”

Eric’s eyes widen. His packmates shift uneasily.

I turn slowly to find Caleb standing just feet away, his eyes burning with barely contained rage. He’s wearing the same clothes I spotted on him through the window yesterday, his hair disheveled, jaw dark with stubble. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

He came looking for me .

Not by accident. Not casually.

He tracked me here .

And he looks furious —not at me, but for me.

Eric recovers quickly, his smirk returning. “Ah, the hired help. Still playing pretend, Leah?” He says, reaching for me.

“Touch her,” Caleb says, still in that terrifyingly controlled voice, “and I’ll redecorate this place with your teeth.”

Eric freezes. The café goes silent. Even the espresso machine seems to pause in terror.

Eric pales but stands his ground. “She’s not even yours,” he says, though his voice lacks conviction.

Caleb moves with the fluid grace of a predator, positioning himself beside me close enough that I’m suddenly leaning into him. The heat of him radiates through my layers, making my knees weaken.

“Try that line again,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving Eric’s. “I dare you.”

My omega instincts—the treacherous, hormone-addled part of me I usually keep locked in a box labeled “IGNORE”—practically purrs with satisfaction. My rational brain takes one look at the situation and files for immediate retirement.

“Aw, did we miss the party?”

Jude’s voice cuts through the tension, cheerful as ever. I turn to find the entire pack filing through the door:

Jude, grinning, but the look in his eyes is deadly .

Mason’s cold focus on Eric.

Liam clutching his fists so hard I worry he might break skin.

Eric’s pack takes a collective step back.

“We were just leaving,” Eric says stiffly, his bravado wilting under Caleb’s unwavering stare.

“Were you?” Caleb says softly. “Because it looked like you were harassing an omega in pre-heat. That’s... frowned upon in polite society.”

“And punishable by law in Sweetwater City,” Mason adds helpfully, his tone conversational but his eyes hard.

Eric’s jaw works. For a moment, I think he might actually push it—his alpha pride battling his self-preservation instinct.

Self-preservation wins.

“Let’s go,” he mutters to his pack, shouldering past Jude, who steps aside with an exaggerated bow.

“Lovely seeing you again,” Jude calls after them. “Do send our regards to the missus!”

The door slams behind them.

And just like that, I’m alone with four males who look like they’ve spent the night hunting me, each radiating a unique blend of concern, anger, and something far more dangerous.

I could:

1. Run (again)

2. Let them escort me home (and deal with the inevitable fallout)

3. Scream (tempting, but I’ve already made enough of a scene)

Instead, I clutch my muffin bag to my chest like a shield and ask the only question that matters right now:

“How did you find me?”

Caleb’s expression is unreadable. “You really think scent blockers work on us? On me ?”

“I used half a bottle!”

“And it was a valiant effort,” Jude says, sauntering closer with his usual lack of respect for personal space. “But you might as well have painted yourself with neon arrows.”

“We were worried,” Liam adds, his voice gentle. “When we realized you’d left?—”

“How did you…” My voice rises embarrassingly high. “You got into my apartment?”

“We were making sure you were safe,” Mason corrects. “From a respectful distance.”

“Until you decided to pull a Houdini,” Jude adds.

“Through a fire escape ,” Liam says, with such genuine concern that I almost feel guilty. Almost.

“I needed muffins,” I say, which sounds ridiculous even to my own ears.

Four pairs of eyes drop to the bag clutched against my chest.

“Muffins,” Caleb repeats flatly.

“Yes, muffins,” I snap, heat rising to my cheeks that has nothing to do with my biology. “Some of us actually need to eat during pre-heat, and my cupboards were bare, and I was craving them, okay?” My voice wobbles on the last word. Traitorous stupid tears well in my eyes.

I force them back.

Something shifts in Caleb’s expression—a softening around the eyes.

“Oh, Leah. You risked a public confrontation with your ex... for muffins?”

“They’re really good muffins,” I mutter defensively.

A laugh escapes Jude, bright and unexpected. “Oh, doll. You are something else.”

My skin feels too tight, too hot. The scent of four amused males—all watching me with varying degrees of affection and exasperation—is making it hard to think straight.

“I need to go home,” I say, hating how breathless I sound.

“Alone?” Caleb asks, and the way he says it—not demanding, not assuming, just... asking—makes something twist painfully in my chest.

I should say yes. I should stand my ground, maintain my independence, prove that I don’t need them.

But God help me, I want them.

Not just for my heat, though my biology is certainly screaming for that. But for the way they came looking for me. For the way Caleb defended me without hesitation. For the comfort of knowing I wouldn’t have to face the next few days alone.

I grab Caleb’s arm, my nails digging into the solid muscle of his forearm. Another spasm comes, a cramp that almost makes me whimper. “Can you…get me out of here?” I whisper.

His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring as he catches the change in my scent. “Your place or ours?”

Jude snorts. “Ours has better snacks.”

Liam elbows him sharply. “This is not the time?—”

“ Ours ,” I hear myself say.

The pack freezes, as if they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing. Then something electric passes between them—a look, a shift in their collective energy.

Caleb moves first, sweeping me into his arms like I weigh nothing, his growl vibrating against my skin. “ Move .”

And just like that, I surrender.