Pack Choice: An Omegaverse Romance (The Rockview Omegaverse Book 3), page 1
PACK CHOICE
HANNAH HAZE
Copyright © 2023 by Hannah Haze
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Front covered designed by EVE Graphic Design LLC
Edited by Buckley's Books
Created with Vellum
To all those living their best lives surrounded by cats and books. You rock!
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Also by Hannah Haze
About the Author
Acknowledgments
About Hannah’s Omegaverse
FOREWORD
What a lot of fun I have had writing Molly’s story! Brave, sharp-witted and caring — I’d definitely want to be her friend. And she certainly deserves to find her happy-ever-after pack! Enjoy!
If you do spot any typos in this book, please drop me a line so I can make it right: hannahhazewrites@gmail.com (Or just drop me an email anyway. I love to chat!).
You can find a guide to my omegaverse at the end of this book. If you’re new to omegaverse, you may want to take a look.
This book is a sweeter 'why choose' (reverse harem) omegaverse with one female omega character and three alpha males, plenty of steamy scenes and lots of humour. There are scenes of violence and abduction (including the potential threat of a child abduction) in this book as well as characters dealing with the loss of loved ones. The female main character has recently lost her mother to terminal illness. For more detailed content warnings, please visit my website.
1
Molly
I drum my fingernails across the tabletop and slump back in my seat.
I don’t want to be here. I really don’t want to be here. But my best friend, Ava, organized the whole thing, and unfortunately, I’m a sucker for that girl.
I peer over my shoulder to check she’s okay. She catches my eye and I bolt upright and plaster a smile on my face.
In return, she throws me a quizzical look and I give her two thumbs up. She shakes her head with a laugh and redirects her attention to the pack of alphas sitting in front of her.
There’s a long queue of alphas gathered behind the ones she’s chatting to, each waiting for their turn to introduce themselves to Ava.
That’s because she smells like vanilla. The really expensive kind that has your eyes watering when you see how expensive it is in the grocery store.
She also has a heart of gold. The sweetest omega you could possibly meet. It’s why I love her.
I scan my gaze around the rest of the ballroom.
Cassidy Monroe has a queue for her table, which is even longer than Ava’s. That’s because her scent is a mimic of honeysuckle on a warm balmy evening, and while her heart is made of stone, she’s perfected the sweet omega act down to a tee.
I turn back to my own empty table with no queue and sigh. This is exactly why I didn’t want to come to this speed-dating event.
My scent is anything but sweet or floral. How did the last pack I shared a heat with describe it? Spicy. Yeah, nobody wants a spicy omega with an even spicier tongue.
I pick up my name placard. Last night, I helped Ava cut out and fold about a dozen of these, as well as about a hundred name badges.
I run my fingertip across my name, printed in Ava’s swirling calligraphy.
Molly Stormgate.
And that is the other reason I don’t have any visitors at my speed-dating table.
My family name. Nobody wants a spicy omega with a spicy tongue and two big brothers like mine. They’re notorious in this city for their ruthlessness and zealous over-protection. Doesn’t help that there’s a photo circulating on the internet of the damage my brothers did to some dude’s face. And all that guy had done was dare to wolf whistle at me on the street.
I am actually surprised my brothers let me come tonight. Then again, with a baby on the way, I think they want me off their hands — mated, bonded, settled down and not causing them trouble.
I sigh in an exaggerated fashion and stare at my name, nearly jumping out of my skin when a deep voice says, “Not happy to be here?”
I look up and find an alpha about twice my size pulling out one of the chairs on the opposite side of my table.
His hair is dark and beard neatly clipped around his face. A face that is all chiseled and angular perfection, his jaw strong, his cheekbones sharp, his nose Roman. Then there are his eyes, a deep emerald green and trained directly at me.
He lowers himself into his seat. Alone. Completely alone.
I slide my name placard onto the table and shuffle in my seat.
It’s one thing to bemoan the absence of men around my table, but now I actually have one. Which means polite conversation – for what? five minutes – before he discovers I am not the omega for him and makes his excuses.
I straighten the placard, hoping my surname might act as some kind of repellant and have him scuttling from my table even sooner.
It doesn’t work. His eyes don’t deviate from my face, and his scent finds its way to my nose. Woody and dark and far too alluring.
“Very happy to be here,” I say, finding that fake smile again. I bet it’s not fooling anyone, but I’m not saying a bad word about this event. I don’t want that getting back to Ava. Despite all her protests to the contrary, I think she organized this event especially for me. Ava is firmly in the ‘you need a pack to care for you’ camp, along with my sister-in-law, Bea. They think love will cure all heartaches.
He snorts, leaning back a little on his chair. Like most of the alphas here tonight, he’s dressed in a suit, although his looks particularly well made, cut to leave everyone in no doubt about how well honed the body that lies underneath is. “You look it,” he says.
He reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out the piece of paper we’ve all been given tonight. Next, he finds an expensive gold pen, swivels the nib and makes a note on the paper.
I strain to see what he’s writing, but he’s too far away.
Whatever it is, it won’t be good. Some mark against me.
Well, guess what, Jerkface, I don’t care.
“Did you buy that pen especially for this event?” I ask in my best bored voice.
He glances at the pen in his hand, like he’s only just noticed it.
“No, why?”
“To impress me and all the other omegas here tonight.”
“Are you usually impressed by pens?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching.
I reach over and take the pen from his hand, examining it closely. I’m pretty sure it’s made from real gold. It has weight to it and feels heavy in my hand. It is a nice pen. But it’s such an obvious play. I bet he’s wearing some flashy watch too. The message: look at me, I have money. Which means he probably has none.
Not that that bothers me. It’s the deception I don’t like.
“The pen itself is not what impresses me, it’s what the owner can do with it that counts.”
He stares at me as I hand his pen back.
I told you, spicy. I’m not one of those sweet omegas who will giggle and blush. I’m a little more forward than that. I’ve learned the hard way that life is far too short to be anything else.
I swallow hard on that thought and glance away from the man in front of me, his gaze far too intense.
I hear him shuffle his piece of paper.
“You’re not very friendly, are you?” he says.
“And you are not the best conversationalist,” I snap, swinging my head back towards him.
He frowns. “Probably not.”
“You need to work on that if you hope to woo an omega.”
“Woo?” His lips curl and I roll my eyes.
“That is why you’re here, right?”
“I’m here to meet an omega I’m hoping to like.”
“So you’re here to hook up?” I should have guessed. That’s why he’s at my table and not queuing to meet the sweeter, more homely omegas who will make the perfect mate for a pack of alphas ready to settle down.
“No.”
His green eyes flick around my form. “Shame.”
I roll my eyes again, this time adding a huff.
“You always roll your eyes at alphas? Do you think that’s sensible?”
“I don’t always roll my eyes at alphas. I only roll my eyes at alphas who say dumb things that require such a reaction.”
He scowls at me and ducks his head down, adding some more scribbles to his notes.
I drag my own set of notes toward me. I haven’t touched them all night. I’ve had no cause to.
Which is just fine. I may want to find my forever pack, like every other omega on the planet, but that is looking more and more unlikely. I’m happy with that. Perfectly happy.
I peek at his name badge. The way it’s pinned to his jacket means I can only read his first name.
Colten.
I write the name Colten in the first name box on my notes. I leave the pack name blank.
“Where’s your pack?” I ask him.
He continues to scribble away, not lifting his gaze to reply. “I don’t have one.”
“You didn’t bring your pack to this speed-dating event. You realize you have no chance of—”
“No, it’s not that I didn’t bring my pack. I don’t have a pack.”
I gape at him and he lifts his gaze back to mine.
“You don’t have one?”
He’s at least 30, probably older. And he doesn’t have a pack! Doesn’t have a pack, and yet is here attempting to court omegas anyway.
“Why not?” I blurt out. All the alphas I know fell into their packs early on in life, finding other men they wanted to form a life with, and hunting for a mate together.
“I don’t want one.”
“You don’t want one?!”
“No, I’m a lone wolf.”
I pick up my pencil and scribble in big capital letters, right by this dude’s name: RED FLAG.
“What the hell does that mean?” he says gruffly, peering at my handwriting.
“Exactly what it says.”
“It isn’t a red flag. I don’t want to live that way.”
“Uh huh.” Or nobody wants to live with him. Probably because he is an asshole.
“I don’t want other alphas in my life. I want to find an omega and give her all my focus and attention. And I want all of hers in return. I’m not prepared to share,” he says sternly, in a manner that has my insides tingling despite myself.
My stupid insides don’t always know what’s best for them.
Another lesson I’ve learned the hard way.
I lean forward in my seat. “Have you ever been with an omega in heat? Because if you had, you’d know there is no way in hell one alpha is enough to meet all an omega’s needs.”
“I’ve been with plenty of omegas in heat,” he says, also leaning forward, his eyes darkening. “And I can assure you, I’ve met all their needs.”
“I can assure you,” I reply, “you haven’t.”
We stare at each other and the air seems to warm several degrees, his scent swimming in my senses.
“Well,” he says, breaking the moment with a smug smile, “next time you’re in heat, maybe we could test that out.”
“No, thank you,” I say, smiling at him sweetly.
I may not be ready to settle down just yet, but I know that when I am, it will be with a pack.
No lone wolves for me.
Not even for a heat.
He flops back in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Honestly, I thought he’d have left by now. I’ve given him enough reasons to go.
He jerks his chin at me. “Why are you here?”
I twist the pencil around my fingers. For such a jerk, he does have really pretty eyes, and a pretty face too. What a waste.
I consider giving him the spiel I’ve been practicing in my head – the one where I pretend I’m here to meet new people and blah blah blah. Instead, I decide to go with the truth.
“My best friend, Ava Jones, organized this thing. I’m here to lend my support.”
“Ava Jones?” he asks, peering over my head in the direction of my best friend.
Even from across the ballroom, I can smell her sweet vanilla scent. No wonder nearly every pack wants to meet her.
“Before you ask, no, I can’t introduce you.” I’m not throwing my sweet best friend into the path of a lone wolf to be gobbled up for dinner and spat out a day or so later.
“She’s not my type,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes for a third time. Sure, and the sun doesn’t rise in the east and set in the west.
“She’s not your type? Are you blind? Smell-impaired?”
“I can see and smell perfectly well,” he says, his gaze returning to me and becoming somehow more penetrating. “So you’re not looking for an alpha?”
“If I was here looking for anything, it would be for a pack.”
“Instead, you’re here to waste people’s time — people who are serious about searching for a mate.” He sounds annoyed.
“Did you seriously think you’d find a mate here tonight?”
He doesn’t stand a chance against all the packs here. I mean, Pack Stone is here. That pack is nearly as wealthy as my brother’s. And then there’s Pack MacPhey, made up of highly regarded artists and actors. Pack Johnson featuring a good number of the players from the city’s ice hockey and football teams. And Pack Wicks made up entirely of ex-military types – their ability to crush rocks in their hands, legendary.
“I hoped I’d meet some nice people.” He tucks his pen and his notes back inside his jacket pocket. “I was obviously wrong.”
“Seems a common occurrence for you.”
He shakes his head. “Word of advice, little omega,” he draws back his chair, the feet squealing on the polished floor, and stands, “tamper down that tongue of yours, otherwise you’ll never find an alpha, lone or pack.”
His words cut deeper than I’d like them to. Because I think he’s right. I’m not sweet like Ava or Bea. I’m not even any good at pretending to be sweet like Cassidy.
I will most probably end up alone. A spinster aunt with a houseful of cats and books.
I keep smiling.
Well, actually, that doesn’t sound so bad.
The fewer people in my life to love, the fewer I risk losing.
2
Molly
“Good night,” I tell the man assigned by my brothers’ pack to escort me home tonight. The dude used to change every five minutes. My brothers have a hard time trusting bodyguards and escorts to keep their intentions pure. But Phil has a wife and four kids. He’s been keeping a watch over me for the last six months and is more than happy to wave me off at the door.
I key in the security code and wait for the door to open. It’s just one of many new security measures my brothers have installed. It makes the house seem even less like mine. I feel like an intruder most days. Which is unfair, I know. They moved back here three months ago, so that I wouldn’t be alone in this big house.
