Page 3 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

CALEB

Just before

“ S he’s late,” I mutter, checking my watch for the third time in five minutes.

We’re standing near the champagne fountain, surrounded by other guests attending the pre-wedding cocktail party. The venue is exactly as pretentious as I expected—all crystal chandeliers and white roses arranged in towering displays.

“Maybe she changed her mind,” Liam suggests, always the voice of calm among us.

Jude snorts. “And miss out on us ? Impossible.”

Mason, quiet as always, is scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes. “You have her photo, right?”

I nod, pulling up the PackPlus profile on my phone. Our “date” for the weekend, Olivia, has dark hair, blue eyes, and, according to her listing, will be wearing a black cocktail dress.

“This is ridiculous,” I say, tucking my phone away. “We shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

“What choice did we have?” Jude counters, straightening his already-perfect jacket. “The Walshes are one of the most influential packs in the Northeast. We need connections if we’re going to expand our business here.”

He’s right, of course. Le Roux Craft House has been doing well in Sweetwater City, but breaking into the market has been challenging.

When one of our clients mentioned his niece’s wedding would be the networking event of the season, we knew we needed to attend.

The problem? The invitation specifically mentioned pack seating arrangements, and walking in as four packmates without an omega would raise eyebrows.

Enter PackPlus—a discreet service for exactly this situation.

“Fifteen more minutes,” I decide. “Then we just…mingle without her.”

Jude and Liam nod in agreement, while Mason continues to survey the crowd.

“Send her a text,” Mason jerks his chin at my phone.

I shake my head. “Already did. No reply.” I show the others.

Jude rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

Liam glances between us. “Maybe her phone’s dead. Who knows, she might already be here looking for us.”

He’s got a point.

I nod. “Let’s mingle. We’re drawing attention standing here like lost puppies.”

We make our way into the main ballroom, immediately assaulted by the scents of too many packs in one enclosed space. I wrinkle my nose slightly—these events always feel overcrowded to me, but they’re perfect for establishing presence, especially with a business like ours.

“Bar first,” Jude announces, leading the way. “I need a drink if we’re going to schmooze with these people.”

We’re halfway across the room when it happens. A small figure in a black dress bumps directly into Jude, nearly spilling champagne on his suit.

“Oh!” she begins, looking up with startled brown eyes.

One look at her black dress, and Jude’s irritation melts instantly into his trademark charming smile. “You’re late, sweetheart,” he says, steadying her with a hand on her elbow.

It’s her. Description fits. Poor thing was probably searching for us while we stood by waiting for her to arrive. My irritation melts away immediately.

Damn. She’s gorgeous . The picture on PackPlus does her zero justice.

I step forward, ready to introduce myself to our hired date, when I notice the man standing before her and watching our interaction with undisguised interest. Something about his smug expression sets my teeth on edge.

The omega follows my gaze, and I watch as her shoulders tense. Her aura shifts subtly—a note of distress threading through what was, I now notice, an exceptionally appealing scent. Like vanilla and cinnamon with hints of honey.

The man clears his throat, looking between her and the four of us with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t realize you were... bringing guests, Leah.”

Leah. Not Olivia. I realize in an instant that we’ve approached the wrong omega, but before I can correct the mistake, I catch the look of pure mortification on her face. The man—who must be one of the grooms, given the boutonniere on his lapel, is clearly taking pleasure in her discomfort.

Jude, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, extends his hand to the groom. “Jude Le Roux. And you must be one of the grooms.” He glances at the omega, then back at the groom. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The groom shakes his hand, his expression now showing signs of uncertainty. “Still packless last I heard, Leah. This is... unexpected.”

Something protective surges in my chest without warning. I step closer to her, letting a low rumble build in my throat, clear enough for the groom to hear.

“She’s with us.”

I feel her tense beside me, and without thinking, I place my hand at the small of her back in a gesture that’s unmistakably possessive.

Liam moves to her other side, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder as she chokes on her champagne. “Easy there,” he murmurs in that gentle way of his.

The groom’s eyes dart between us, then he forces a tight smile. “Well,” he says stiffly, “I should get back to my guests. Nice to meet you all.” He gives the omega one last look before retreating across the room.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, she spins to face us, her heart beating so rapidly I can practically hear it.

“Who are you people?” she hisses, eyes wide with confusion and what might be panic.

I lean in close, keeping my voice low. “We thought you were late, sweetheart.”

“Late for what?” she whispers back, clearly bewildered. “I don’t even know you.”

I catch Mason’s subtle head tilt—his way of signaling something’s not right. His eyes are narrowed slightly as he studies her face. Of course, he’d be the one to catch on first that this isn’t our hired date.

But before I can decide how to respond, Jude steps in with his usual confidence. “Le Roux Pack,” he says with a lazy smile. “Jude, Liam, Mason, Caleb. Sorry, we didn’t realize you’d already arrived. We’ve been waiting by the champagne fountain for the past twenty minutes.”

I watch as understanding dawns on her face. She glances across the room at the groom, who’s still watching us, and something shifts in her expression. Her shoulders straighten almost imperceptibly.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says, her voice steadier now. “The traffic was terrible.”

So she’s playing along. Interesting.

Mason raises an eyebrow, and I give him the slightest shake of my head. Whatever game this is, I’m curious to see where it goes.

“No problem at all,” I tell her, keeping my hand at the small of her back. The touch feels more natural than it should with a complete stranger. “We’re just glad we found you.”

Her skin is warm through the thin fabric of her dress, and I catch another wave of that delicious scent as she takes a deep breath. This close, I notice the way her short, dark hair frames her face, how her pulse jumps at the base of her throat.

“Should we get a drink?” Liam suggests smoothly, breaking the tension.

Jude nods with enough enthusiasm for all of us. “Excellent idea. I need to hear all about your…journey here,” he adds with a meaningful look at not-Olivia.

As we guide her toward the bar, I catch Mason’s eye. He gives me a subtle nod, confirming my suspicion: he knows she’s not our date. But he’s willing to play along, too, at least for now.

I scan the room again, wondering if the real Olivia is somewhere in the crowd, looking for us. But for the moment, I’m more interested in learning why this omega—Leah—is willing to pretend to be with a pack of strangers.

And why, despite having just met her, I felt so instantly compelled to defend her from the groom, who is also a stranger to me.