Page 15 of Pack Scratch Fever

PIPER

I need to be spayed.

I’m worse than a feral female cat.

For the past week, I’ve been rubbing against blankets, sheets, towels and any soft material that I can get my hands on.

Today, Blair wears a fuzzy sweater to work, and I can’t stop petting it for an hour.

“This is what you get,” she says after the tenth time of my whining about my symptoms. “You shouldn’t have messed with your suppressants for so long.”

She offers me no compassion, even when I sweat profusely and gulp down glass after glass of ice water.

“I’m going to die,” I groan.

“You’re not going to die,” Blair says matter-of-factly, trimming the nails of one of our newest rescues. “Let this be a lesson to you for next time.”

The new prescription suppressants I’m taking work, but the hormonal changes are intense. After emailing my doctor and doing extra bloodwork, she confirmed that these were just side effects of going back to the proper dose.

My body has put off its natural impulses for so long that everything is magnified.

She also gave me another gentle reminder never to mess with my medications again.

My pre-Heat symptoms have been out of control.

Especially after my kiss with Avery and latest encounter with Poe.

Our dinner is at the beginning of next week, but I’m not sure how I’ll get through it without going into Heat.

Part of me thinks I should cancel, but the other part wants to be there just to greedily scent the three of them again.

They belong to us, my inner Omega purrs. We’ll never be alone again.

But my rational side knows that’s not how this works.

Sure, the attraction and chemistry are there, but we don’t know each other as much as we should.

Despite how hot my make out session with Avery was, there’s still a part of me that worries that I won’t be able to impress him and his packmates. Sure, his scent is still on me—chamomile and sweet tea practically pulse through my veins—but this isn’t a fairytale.

Avery’s a photographer and a professor, Maddox is a computer whiz, and Poe is a lawyer.

I end every day cleaning litter boxes and worrying about making rent.

I swallow, absentmindedly petting Alvin when he yowls at me.

Maybe I should cancel dinner. Once they find out more about me, they’ll realize they’re in over their heads.

Maybe it’s better to just live in the what-ifs and imagine having a pack.

That way, nothing bad can ever happen, and we won’t disappoint each other.

“Get out of your head,” Blair says. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look where you’re going to cancel your dinner date and continue to live as a hermit.”

I don’t have a clever retort. “Nah-uh,” I say finally.

Of course, I filled Blair in on all the details about what happened with Avery and my conversation with Poe. She’s thrilled and refuses to let me back out of my plans.

There are two different monologues going on in my head.

My inner Omega won’t stop screaming scent match .

She won’t stop celebrating that Mister Whiskers is finally opening up to someone, and that it means something pivotal.

The other part of me is terrified.

Terrified that this is all because of biology and I’m wearing blinders.

Or that once the initial shock of our potential match wears off, the Alphas will want nothing to do with me.

In other words, I’m fucked.

“Don’t make me get the others involved,” Blair threatens. “I’ll tell everyone at the event what’s going on. And you know how they love to gossip.”

“You will not. Or I’ll make them set you up.”

Our volunteers have the biggest hearts—residents show up to help every other weekend at the local pet store to host adoption events with us.

But damn, they love to talk when there are no customers around.

There’s always a lot of probing questions about my love life and offers to set me up with another pack.

They also bother Blair about it—but Blair shrugs off their inquiries and always makes some type of joke.

Blair never tells them the truth, and we don’t talk about it.

Blair had a pack at one time, and they broke up amicably.

But right after the breakup, there was a car accident, and…

And we don’t talk about it.

Instead, we focus on my dating life, not hers.

Blair gives me a soft smile. “It’s not my time,” she says gently. “But I’ll know when it is.”

Guilt eats at me. Who am I to act like this when my best friend is still grieving?

“I’m sorry,” I admit, “if I’ve been pushing you lately.”

Her eyes widen. “I’ve been pushing you, too! I want you to find a pack as much as you want me to find one. It doesn’t bother me, Pipe, I promise .”

I stare at my best friend’s sweet blue eyes a bit longer, looking for any sign of trepidation.

At my look, she sighs.

“Just let me live vicariously through you for a bit, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Be happy, please. This is a good thing. Let me be excited for you.”

I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, though.

Maybe for Blair’s sake, I can try to just enjoy the present.

Pets Express is a pet supply store that is kind enough to work with the rescue.

Every other weekend, we host adoption events and bring both adult cats and kittens alike.

We chat with customers that come in, educate them about the cats, and hopefully find new homes for the animals.

The manager also makes sure to give us any returned cat food that they can’t put back on the shelf.

The setup is better than we could have imagined.

Blair is off today, so the adoption crew consists of myself, Mari, and a retired mated couple, Gary and Heidi. Gary is a grumpy Alpha that melts around cats, and Heidi is patient, sweet, and gentle.

The cats are displayed in the middle aisle of the store, happily lounging or sleeping in their kennels. Shoppers come by to chat or to hold and pet the cats.

But no adoptions today, yet.

“It will happen,” Heidi reassures me, noticing how stressed I am. “You know it takes time.”

I have a sudden urge to cry.

I’m uncomfortable; it’s hot in here, and no one wants to adopt the cats.

In turn, that makes me an utter failure.

Heidi pats my hand, and I give her a weak smile. Concerned, she presses her palm to my forehead.

“You’re burning up, honey,” she murmurs, her grey eyes crinkled with concern. “If you want to go home, the three of us have it.”

Going home would be worse. I’d be alone in my room, nesting on that depressing mattress.

Or worse, I’ll attempt to sext Avery and end up a horny, slick mess.

Besides, I know this is a side effect of my body returning to the normal dose of suppressants.

Mood swings. Low grade fever.

Restlessness.

“I’ve got it,” I tell Heidi. “I’d rather be here, honestly. Keeps my mind off things.”

“Is everything okay at home?” she asks. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Define ‘alright,’” I chuckle weakly.

She lets out a concerned huff. “Gary and I are always here for you, sweetheart. You can swing by our house anytime you want to chat.”

I give her a genuine smile. Gary and Heidi are good people. They adore Blair and me and talk highly about us and the rescue.

They were among our original volunteers back when Furs and Purrs opened. I’ve been candid with Heidi about my dating troubles, and she’s offered sage advice when she can.

She’s the grandmother I’ve always wanted.

“I appreciate that,” I murmur.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” she adds. “Let’s keep it that way.”

I nod. “I’ll try.”

Right now, it feels like my head is about to fall off my shoulders.

I’m antsy and anxious, and I gulp down a cold bottle of water to no avail.

My fingers twitch, and I’m seconds away from emailing my doctor and telling her we need to switch up my suppressants.

But a whiff of savory pepper and rich ginger snaps me out of my spiral, and I look up to see a familiar face standing near one of the cages, making Mari laugh delightedly.

Maddox.

He’s dressed in a black hoodie and pants, making his fair skin appear even lighter than it already is. He flashes his stunning smile at Mari as he cradles an orange kitten against his chest.

When he spots me, he shoots me a wink.

“Oh my,” Heidi says, and I turn my head. Her eyes crinkle with delight. “He looks like trouble.”

“He sure does,” Gary agrees, letting out a grunt. “He’s looking right at you, Piper.”

“I’m aware,” I whisper.

Maddox hands the kitten back to Mari, then picks up a plastic bag. He heads toward me, and I forget how to breathe.

His scent . I inhale it greedily, my lips parting slightly, my mind hazy. I stay frozen in my cheap plastic folding chair as he approaches me, placing the bag at my feet.

“Hey gorgeous,” he purrs. “I brought some donations.”

I blink.

He’s so handsome. His inky dark hair looks soft and shiny, and I want to run my fingers through it. His jaw structure is sharp, almost too sharp.

It’s like an otherworldly vampire walked through the pet store.

Heidi nudges my side as I gawk at him like an idiot. “That’s so kind of you, sweetie.”

Maddox grins and extends his hand to her. “I’m Maddox,” he says. “I know all about your rescue because of Pipe.”

When he goes to shake Gary’s hand, the older man huffs. “You be good to our girl,” he warns him, and I want to die of embarrassment.

“Gary,” I hiss, but Maddox only laughs.

“Of course,” he says.

Gary has never been one to keep his mouth shut, especially when it comes to Blair or me. “She’s a good one. You hurt her, and I hurt you.”

“ Gary !” I gasp, mortified.

“Absolutely,” Maddox agrees, and I’m ready to run out of the store from embarrassment. “I give you permission.”

Gary lets go of his hand with a harrumph. “Since you’re here, you can put yourself to work,” he says gruffly. “We have cats to adopt. We don’t need any distractions.”

“Gary,” Heidi warns, her eyes light with amusement. “Stop embarrassing the poor girl.”

But Maddox is delighted . He sits in the chair next to me, which happens to be Mari’s. But Mari is talking to a Beta woman about the cats, and when she sees Maddox in her chair, she simply gives him a friendly wave.

Traitor.