Page 77 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

Cooper.

The knock on the front door startled me.

I frowned, glancing down at the cookbook. The berry cobbler recipe now had a slash of blue ink diagonally across it. I’d been making notes in the margin, since I wanted to modify it for our next fake cattle drive. I’d stew down the berries in advance, freeze them in quart bags with pads of butter and use a boxed cake mix for topping. Toss it all into the cast iron Dutch oven,slap it right onto the campfire, and we’d have gourmet worthy of a glamping trip.

Another knock. Firm, persistent. The sound echoed through the quiet house.

Nobody was answering it. Was I the only one in the house?

Shirtless, sweatpants clinging to my hips and apron not even wide enough to hide my nipples, I moved to the front of the house. Another knock sounded just as I reached for the knob.

I swung the door open to find a delivery guy in a crisp uniform holding a clipboard and standing next to a large basket wrapped in cellophane and tied with an elaborate bow. The biggest one yet. My heart sank. Another goddamn gift from Eros. Would the card read,“hang in there, we expect a match any day,”or“our database continues growing! We value our clients!”or maybe it would be my favorite message so far,“A chew a day keeps ferality away!”Too bad the gum tasted like licking a wet latex glove.

"Delivery for Sagebrush Ranch," the guy said, thrusting the clipboard at me. "Sign here."

I scribbled my signature, barely glancing at the form. We'd been through this routine too many times since the testing. When I accepted the hefty basket, I was surprised by its weight. This one was substantially larger than the others from Eros.

"Thanks," I muttered, but the Beta was already halfway to his van. I closed the door. “You’re going straight into the trash, my friend,” I spoke to the monstrous basket. “No one else has to know you exist.”

But then my gaze snagged on the gold trimmed envelope attached to the front of the basket.

The word "CONGRATS!" was printed in bold metallic letters across its surface.

I froze in place. My heart stuttered nearly to a stop, then resumed at double speed.

Nearly dropping the basket in my haste, I ripped the sealed card from the plastic wrap.

With one shaking hand, I broke the seal and pulled out the inner card. My eyes scanned the message inside, not believing what I was reading.

"Congratulations! You've been scent-matched with a female Omega from Seattle, Washington! More information will arrive in your email within twenty-four hours. In the meantime, please enjoy these gifts and Omega reference materials. You’re one of our first valued clients to receive periodic encouragement baskets throughout our revolutionary matchmaking process. Given that, we’d value your answers to the survey we emailed last week. Again, congratulations on finding your one-in-a-million pack match! The Eros Institute wishes you a lifetime of happiness!"

A garbled sound escaped me. Half laugh, half sob. I dropped the overfilled basket, waves of emotion crashing down on me as Eros’s gift simultaneously crashed to the hardwood floors.

After all this time… after almost giving up hope…

We had a match.

An Omega.Our Omega.

I repeated every detail in my mind, memorizing the little I now knew.

A woman. And she’s in Seattle.

It was the tiniest morsel, hardly enough to whet the appetite, but it was all I needed to regain every ounce of hope I’d lost over these long, brutal months.

My eyes closed, head tilting back as pure joy flooded through me to replace worry, doubt, and self-hatred. When I opened my eyes, I looked down at the basket. It rested on its side, the outer plastic keeping the contents mostly in place. There was a pamphlet:“Ten steps for making your Omega feel at home.”A book next to it claimed to teach“Everything you need to knowabout your Omega’s heat cycle.”I spotted a bottle of something called Heat Relief and a package of mint tea.

The reality of it hit me anew.

A female Omega from Seattle.

I wondered what she looked like. Was she tall or petite? Blonde or brunette? Curvy or thin? Did she have a career in the city that she'd be leaving behind? What was her name?

Questions tumbled through my mind faster than I could process them. Would she like Wyoming? Would she be intimidated by five Alphas? Would she enjoy my cooking? Would she?—

The urgent need to share this news with the others suddenly interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I should have raced out of the house already. I should be tracking my pack brothers down to give them the news. They needed to know.

Pushing into my yellow rain boots, because they were the closest pair of shoes, I burst through the front door and out onto the porch. My eyes scanned the property frantically. I saw no one at first.Where were those assholes? I was going to burst if I didn't tell them right now!