Page 19 of Pack Scratch Fever

PIPER

The smell of sardine juice permeates the shopping center.

You would think by now I would be used to the fishy smell, but it’s still awful.

It’s the best bait to catch feral cats for a reason—the scent is pungent and it carries.

“So gross,” Blair murmurs. “Why are cats always attracted to stinky things?” She sets the final trap and steps back, admiring our handiwork.

“I texted Nora—she knows to check on the traps in a few hours and drop them off at the clinic. We should be able to catch that tomcat right away and hopefully the two girls.”

I nod. “Yeah, as soon as possible. I don’t want to deal with any more kittens.”

The cat cycle is never-ending, but thankfully, we have people like Nora who help us trap and can transfer the animals to the clinic we use.

The cats have been spotted in the same strip mall as the rescue, and while they’re skittish when they see us, they don’t hiss.

Hopefully, there’s adoption potential for them, and once they’re fixed, we’ll have room for them at the rescue.

“This place is a shithole,” Blair comments, surveying the building. “It needs to get fixed up.”

The only business left in the strip mall is Furs and Purrs. The other buildings are empty and have boarded-up windows.

It’s not the best-looking area, but the rent is cheap for a reason.

“Don’t curse it,” I mutter. “The last thing we need is someone buying the building and quadrupling our rent.”

I try not to think about it, but it’s one of many worries that keep me up at night.

I pay for my portion of the rescue’s rent with my inheritance—the rest comes from Blair and donations. The price is a steal. The landlord is a cat person themselves, supports our cause, and is more than lenient with what they charge.

But that doesn’t mean it will be like that forever.

Eventually, my inheritance won’t pay the bills.

Blair snorts. “If they try that, the whole town will revolt. Besides, you know I can cover more rent. My shifts at the bar have been insane recently. I think I’ve been perfuming more, and customers are eating it up.”

“Hell no. Save that money and buy yourself something nice.”

Blair rolls her eyes and glares at me. “Piper. This is our rescue. You know that, right? Not all of the financial responsibility has to fall on you.”

“I know.”

She pokes my arm. “Not all of this is on your shoulders. We’re a team, right? You and me.”

We’ve had this talk before. There are days when I don’t want Blair to have to worry about anything—I want to run the rescue, handle all the cats, and run operations. There are weeks when I bury myself in it, staying up all night calculating spreadsheets or working on community outreach.

Those are the times when Blair reminds me that I’m only human and that I need to eat and sleep.

There are times when I simply pass out at the front desk, Alvin content in my lap as he makes biscuits. Blair has to shake me awake or slam another cup of coffee onto the counter.

I nod. “We’re a team,” I murmur.

But the worries are always there.

If the rescue fails, then my parents were right.

“You have other things to concern yourself with,” Blair adds as we head back to the rescue. “You know, like your dinner date.”

I smile.

Of course, I told Blair what happened with Maddox at the pet store, and she’s thrilled.

I still can’t believe it was real. It was the best release of my life, and Maddox wanted nothing in return.

And it all happened on a fluffy pet bed.

Afterwards, he took me to dinner, then kissed me goodnight.

I spent that night a needy, slick-covered mess, his scent lingering on me.

My bedroom is nothing but a nest now, a giant fort of blankets and pillows for me to lounge and burrow in.

I haven’t seen either Avery or Maddox since then, and the anticipation has been killing me. They’ve texted me though, and we’ve created a group chat for sending me cat memes and flirty texts.

It’s endearing, and I find myself grinning at my phone more than I imagined.

But tonight is dinner with Poe, and an insecure part of me wants to cancel on him.

No, the hell you’re not, my inner Omega snaps. We haven’t tasted him yet.

The suppressants are doing their job, but barely. I’m not losing my mind, but I’m in a mild state of arousal most of the time.

Even the thought of Poe makes my core clench.

“I’m not worried about the dinner,” I say. “And we don’t even know if it’s a date.”

Blair stops walking and gives me an unimpressed look. “Sure. You’re still going to get ready at my place, right?”

“Yup.”

I know it’s her way of making sure I don’t bail, but I don’t mind.

Blair’s apartment is a lot nicer than mine. It’s roomier, with two bedrooms and two twin tuxedo cats, Marlin and Mervin.

She’s offered to be roommates, but I keep turning her down.

My self-isolation as punishment is a habit that’s hard to break.

“And the hand? How’s that doing?” she asks.

“Oh.” I look at the scratch I received from the Mister Whiskers earlier, an ugly pink jagged line. “Eh. It’s fine. It still hurts, but I cleaned it. We’re good.”

“Put a bandage on it, just in case. Keep it protected.”

“Okay, Mother, geez . ” I roll my eyes, and she snickers.

“I have some cute ones at home. I’ll make sure it matches your outfit.”

“You have cute bandages?”

We enter the front office of the rescue, and Alvin meows excitedly when he sees me. I scoop him into my arms and hold him close.

“Of course, I do. You can’t have a cute outfit for the bar unless you have matching medical supplies to go with it.”

I gape at my best friend. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. Alphas can be stupid as hell. Someone tipped me an extra twenty bucks because they thought the pink bandage was cute. I literally wore it because I cut it on glass from a broken bottle. Twenty bucks for cutting my finger.”

I make a face at her. “Shit.”

“Like I said. Most men are stupid.”

“What about Maddox, Poe, and Avery?”

Blair smirks. “Of course they’re stupid—they haven’t proposed to you yet. Actually, I have a feeling that’s more your doing than theirs.”

“We’re not even dating, Blair,” I huff, but she grins.

“You’re right. Just fooling around in the back of a pet store.”

I blush at the reminder.

“Maybe tonight, you’ll be able to make more memories like that,” Blair adds.

I chuckle.

The damn scratch itches.

It’s covered with a lavender bandage, which matches the low-cut flowy top I wear. The blouse shows off my modest cleavage well, and paired with light wash jeans, my confidence is through the roof.

I look good and I smell good, my Omega scent sweet but delicate.

You don’t deserve this, a small, ugly voice that sounds a lot like my mother says. What have you done to warrant a day off like this?

I swallow as I park my car in the driveway of the packhouse.

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

I look at myself in the rearview mirror, studying my reflection.

My brown hair is straightened, the usual frizziness gone and replaced with shine. I wear cream blush with a matching shade of lipstick to bring out my complexion. Black mascara coats my lashes, and a subtle smoke of eggplant eyeshadow brings out the gold in my irises.

But no amount of concealer erases the dark circles under my eyes, no matter what the product claims to do.

That’s something Poe and I have in common, at least.

Neither of us appears to have good sleep hygiene.

I exhale deeply and drum my fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the packhouse in front of me.

There’s no going back from this.

I have a connection with both Avery and Maddox—now all that’s left is to get to know Poe on a deeper level.

My duffel bag is in the backseat, packed with toiletries and extra clothes, just in case.

I fully plan on going home after dinner, but if there’s an emergency, I have an overnight bag.

The suppressants should keep me Heat-free, unless something ridiculous happens.

Worst case scenario, I call Blair, and she takes me to her place.

It’s not like I’m spending the night here.

Why not? my inner Omega asks coyly. Why not stay here forever?

She doesn’t shut up until I ring the doorbell to the packhouse.

My throat is dry by the time the door opens, and my breath catches when Poe greets me.

“Hey, Piper,” he says, his voice warm. “Come on in. It’s good to see you.”

I step inside his home and am immediately shocked as I face him.

This Poe is different.

He’s well rested, which is obvious from the lack of circles under his eyes and the fondness in his expression.

He’s shaved, his stubble gone, and his rich brown hair is styled slightly messy.

His navy blue button-up shirt brings out the grey in his eyes, and the dark jeans are tailored to his muscular legs perfectly.

It’s ridiculous.

No one should look like him.

His herbal scent is familiar and welcoming as well. I didn’t even realize how much I missed it until I inhaled it again.

That’s what a scent match is.

“You look…beautiful,” he breathes, clearing his throat. His eyes rake over my form, and my inner Omega preens at the attention.

I can’t help but smile. “You clean up well,” I tease. “Did you finally get some sleep?”

He lets out a slow whoosh of air and rakes a hand through his hair. “I did,” he chuckles. “It feels good to finally have a full day off.” He reaches out with his other hand. “You never got a tour last time,” he says, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Would you like one?”

My smile turns into a full grin. “Who are you and what have you done with Poe?” I demand, taking his hand. It’s warm and large in mine, and I try not to let my mind wander with thoughts of what he could do with that hand.

“I’m who you should have met the first day I walked into the rescue,” he admits. “And who you should have met the night you came over to trap all those cats. I want to start over, if you’ll let me.”

His expression is so earnest and vulnerable that I have no choice but to nod.

“Sure,” I murmur. “You can have your second chance.”

Grumpy, irritated Poe is gone. I’m standing with an Alpha that exudes strength and gentleness as he leads me through the packhouse.

It’s roomier than I expected. I had already seen the front room, kitchen, and part of the backyard, but there’s also a home theater, game room, and office.

The place is massive.

“You have your own bedrooms?” I ask after we end up back in the kitchen. I hop onto a bar stool to sit at the marble island, and he joins me.

“One guestroom as well,” he adds, his eyes darkening with something I can’t place. But I don’t turn away from his gaze; I meet it with my own.

“So, what I’m hearing is that the cat colony outside always has a place to stay inside .”

He laughs softly and shakes his head. “Sure.”

“You would hate my apartment,” I sigh. “My bedroom is like a quarter of the size of your game room.”

His eyes watch me fondly. “Apartments are fine. I lived in apartments for years before we had the packhouse.” His gaze falls on my lips. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water,” I say. “Did you need any help cooking?”

Poe looks bewildered. “You shouldn’t have to help me make dinner for you.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his scandalized face. “I know. But it’s either you cook and I watch awkwardly, or I get to hang out with you, and we do it together.”

It’s heartwarming that he wants to cook for me.

What have you done to deserve this? Why are you relaxing when you’re blowing through the money that was saved for you for college?

That awful grating voice comes back into my mind, so different from my inner Omega.

Thankfully, Poe doesn’t hear the self-doubts threatening to eat me alive.

“Only to keep me company,” he warns me. “Not because I need your help. Please just…let me do this for you.”

My lips part in surprise, and I nod.

“Just to keep you company,” I agree, and he gifts me another smile.

I’m beginning to adore this side of Poe.