Page 5 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

I’m sure she’ll see straight through his horrible attempt at diverting her attention, but instead Leah looks at where he gestures and stifles a laugh. I watch him register the sound again—his pupils dilating slightly, his scent warming. Fucking trouble brewing.

A server glides past with silver trays of hors d’oeuvres. Bacon-wrapped dates dripping with honey. Crostini piled high with whipped goat cheese and figs. Liam intercepts them with the quiet precision of a sommelier selecting a vintage, his broad shoulders cutting effortlessly through the crowd.

I’ve seen this look before. That hyperfocus he gets when optimizing barrel rotations at the brewery. His fingers hover over the tray like he’s mentally calculating flavor pairings before assembling a perfect bite: one smoked salmon roulade, two of the caramelized onion tarts.

“Here,” he murmurs, offering the plate to Leah. “The chef clearly spent actual effort on these.” His thumb brushes the edge of the porcelain as she takes it. And…did her breath just hitch?

Jude grins around a stolen canapé. “Careful, Liam. You’ll spoil our omega before dinner.”

Our omega? I hope he knows this is temporary and that we’re still just pretending. Right?

A hint of a genuine smile plays at her lips as she stares down at the plate before her. “Uh…thanks. This is very…thoughtful. You didn’t have to.”

Despite her words, I notice how her shoulders drop another half-inch. How her scent, though still nervous, takes on notes of gratitude.

As we slip into a comfortable silence, the alphas all scan the room, sip their drinks, and pretend they’re not completely focused on the omega sitting with us. Hell.

If I hadn’t personally reviewed the PackPlus profile for the omega we were supposed to hire—brunette, blue-eyed, marketing executive with a penchant for designer perfumes—I might believe this charade myself.

Leah is either the world’s best actress or she genuinely thinks we’re her hired dates.

“Your ex keeps watching,” I murmur, noting how the groom’s gaze returns to our group every few minutes.

She cringes. “I’m sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Caleb shifts closer to her, and I catch a subtle rumble in his chest once more—protective alpha instincts kicking in. His eyes darken as they fix on the groom across the room, and for a moment, I worry he might actually start something.

I clear my throat slightly, catching his attention. When his eyes meet mine, I give him a subtle glare. What the fuck has gotten into you ?

He nods almost imperceptibly, reining himself in. But his hand finds the small of Leah’s back again. She jerks slightly, surprised maybe, but she doesn’t move away.

Whether she realizes Caleb’s possessiveness is showing or not, I’m not sure.

Before our conversation can continue, an older omega in an aggressively floral dress approaches our group. The moment I spot her, I know she’s trouble. Her eyes are alight with curiosity.

“Leah, darling!” Her voice is as overwhelming as her perfume, thick and cloying. “Eric said you’d be here, but he didn’t mention you were bringing guests.”

Curious. The invitations specifically said ‘pack seating’ rules applied, and they didn’t think she was bringing guests?

Leah’s pulse jumps—I can see it at the base of her throat—but she manages a smile. “Eric’s… mom ,” she says brightly, though the smile is so tight it could snap. It’s the kind of smile that says she’d rather be anywhere else. “Yes, these are my... friends.”

The woman’s gaze sweeps over us, lingering on each of us with undisguised interest. The kind of interest that feels invasive, like she’s cataloging every detail for future gossip.

“And how did you all meet our Leah?” she asks with a smile that’s just a shade too sharp.

We all start talking at once:

Jude: “Coffee shop?—”

Liam: “Through work?—”

Caleb: “Mutual friend?—”

I cut in smoothly, my voice steady and calm. “All of the above, actually. Fate kept throwing us together until we got the hint.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, as if she’s not entirely convinced. But before she can press further, Caleb steps forward.

“We’re a pack,” he says, voice carrying that quiet alpha authority that brooks no argument. “Le Roux.”

The woman blinks, visibly thrown. “Le Roux. Like the brewery?”

Caleb gives her a dashing smile, the kind that could charm even the most hardened critic. “The same.”

Leah’s lashes flutter as she blinks several times. I catch the exact moment it clicks for her—her whiskey-brown eyes widening, lips parting on a soft inhale.

Le Roux . The craft brewery that took the industry by storm last year. The one whose limited-release imperial stout had food bloggers fist-fighting in parking lots. The pack every omega in the city had whispered about at bonding mixers.

And she’d just spent twenty minutes letting them hand-feed her strawberries.

“Oh!” The woman’s eyes widen, and for the first time, she seems genuinely flustered. “Well, that’s… that’s something!” She blinks rapidly, her pasted-on smile faltering just a little. “Well, it was nice seeing you again, Leah.”

Without waiting for a response, she floats away in a cloud of aggressive floral perfume, her curiosity likely already morphing into gossip.

The moment she’s gone, Leah lets out a breath so deep it’s like she’s been holding it for hours. For three full seconds, she just breathes, her white-knuckled grip on her clutch slowly loosening. Then— “Sorry about that. She’s a terrible gossip.”

“You handled her well,” I tell her, watching how her shoulders are still tense, like she’s bracing for another wave.

Jude leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “I don’t know—she clearly adored me.”

Leah snorts softly, the sound seeming to catch her off guard.

“She’ll be talking about us for weeks,” Liam adds with a small, self-deprecating smile, as if to say, “Let her”.

Caleb doesn’t say anything right away, but he shifts just behind Leah, close enough that she can feel the steady, grounding warmth of his presence.

Jude catches her eye and offers her the last petit four from a passing tray, plucking off the unnecessary gold leaf before handing it over. “Here. For bravery. Sugar helps with toxic ex-in-law exposure.”

She takes it, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Bravery for surviving Eric’s mother?”

“And for not bolting the second she opened her mouth,” Jude replies.

Leah laughs—a short, startled sound that softens the tension in her shoulders.

Liam slides her champagne flute closer to her, his voice soft but steady. “Drink,” he says. “You’ve earned it.”

She does, and for the first time since Eric’s mother approached, I see some of the tension drain from her.

She glances at me, then at Caleb, Jude, and Liam, her gaze lingering on each for a moment longer than necessary. Something like wonder crosses her face.

It almost makes my heart hurt.

It’s a look I’ve seen before—the surprise of an omega who’s never experienced true pack protection.

And suddenly, I understand why neither Liam nor Jude has questioned her identity. She fits with us in a way that’s oddly seamless. Her scent’s already blending with ours, settling into something that feels... right.

She’s responding to their protective instincts, and they’re responding to her need.

I should tell them this isn’t our hire. But the way she leaned into Caleb’s touch, the relief in her scent when Jude made her laugh…

Instead, I keep my damn mouth shut.

Whatever game we’re playing, it stopped being just pretend the moment Caleb growled at her ex.