3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Genesis

“ Y ou’re tripping, girl,” Avery exclaimed, gesturing animatedly at Genesis’s laptop, and almost knocking over her wine glass. “These guys are super fucking hot.”

They leaned against the bar top in Genesis’s kitchen, shoulders touching as they peered at her computer. No matter how busy Avery got with her mates and kids, or how wrapped up Genesis might be with work, except for during her heats, they always had drinks on Sundays. Sometimes it was early morning coffee or brunch mimosas. Other times it might be wine over dinner or nighty-night tea, and often it was via videochat, but they never missed it. It had been Avery’s idea, of course, but Genesis counted on it every week.

It had always been that way between them, Avery determinedly ensuring that they make time for each other. Back when she was a bubbly little beta spending her afternoons and summers at the omega academy where her mother worked, she’d noticed Genesis and begun a friendship crusade. Genesis had already been there for a few years, having come to the boarding school at such a young age that she was used to taking classes with much older children, while remaining completely outside their social circles.

Avery had to occupy herself while her mother worked, and Genesis was a readymade friend just her age. Eventually, they’d become inseparable. Even as Genesis grew up and learned to socialize more with the other omegas at the academy, she never managed to get very close to anyone besides Avery.

That Sunday, they’d spent their entire date poring over every detail they could find about Pack Rossi. In addition to the file Dr. Gardiner’s office provided, Greyson had somehow acquired and supplied her full background checks on all three men. Of course, Genesis had also gone into investigative reporter mode and found out plenty on her own. She was sure Pack Rossi was the best choice of the options Dr. Gardiner offered her, but she was still about sixty-five percent certain this whole temporary pack thing was a horrible idea altogether.

“Two of them are old enough to be my fathers,” Genesis replied, rolling her eyes.

“They’re not your fathers, but they can be your daddies,” Avery shot back. “Jesus, look at these silver foxes! You can’t tell me you don’t find them attractive.”

Genesis pursed her lips. “Of course, I find them attractive. I have eyes.”

Avery grinned salaciously. “And a mouth and other holes to fill. These zaddies look well-equipped to take care of you. I don’t understand what you’re freaking out about.”

Genesis groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “That’s because you’re a happily married beta instead of an old maid omega whose stupid body wants her to submit to a pack of testosterone-fueled alphaholes for the rest of her life. I might need their help, but I don’t trust these guys.”

Avery cocked her head, fixing Genesis with a penetrating stare. “You don’t trust them because your dads are assholes. It doesn’t mean that all alphas are.”

Genesis laughed. “Did you just ‘not all alphas’ me, Ave? I know that not everyone is like my dads, but the trouble is you can’t tell. They doted on my mother when she was alive. The flowers on her grave hadn’t even wilted before they were bonding a new omega. Just months after her accident. Like she was nothing to them.”

Genesis refilled her wine glass. She’d thought she was over her fathers’ betrayal. It had been a long time and she’d had plenty of therapy. But this whole idea of taking on temporary alphas seemed to be unearthing all of her fears and insecurities.

“Maybe multiple things can be true at once,” Avery suggested gently. “Maybe your dads loved your mom deeply and they moved on too quickly. People are complex. Anyway, these absolute fucking babes didn’t make the same mistake. Their omega died almost ten years ago, and the files say they only started volunteering as temp alphas five years ago. It doesn’t seem like they’re eager to mate again—the omegas they’ve tended have since been claimed by other packs. I don’t think you have much to worry about, Gen. It seems like none of you are trying to catch feelings.”

Avery was right. She’d just laid out the biggest reason Genesis had chosen Pack Rossi over several attractive, younger packs. Her heart would be safe because theirs belonged to someone else. She was gambling that they hadn’t moved on from the death of their first omega—a tragic victim of the kind of crime Genesis wanted to fight through her journalism.

“You still look anxious,” Avery said, speaking slowly as if to a child. “Let me spell this out for you, ma’am. You have selected a pack of extremely hot, incredibly rich, emotionally unavailable alphas who perfectly fit your needs as a career-driven omega who doesn’t want to be claimed or loved because she has deep-seated trust issues but also desperately needs to be rutted into oblivion.”

“I never said I don’t want to be loved,” Genesis corrected, grinning despite herself. “I just don’t trust anyone enough to love me and am unsure I’m capable of love, so I take solace in nihilism. Cheers!”

Avery shook her head, clinking their glasses together. “Well, I see three very good reasons to give it a try. One, Orlando Rossi, a billionaire business tycoon who looks like he would bend you over his knee and spank you before fucking you into next week. Two, Luke Wyatt Wilder, businessman-turned-actual-fucking-cowboy with the requisite rugged good looks and big dick energy oozing from his pores. And three, Gabriel Acosta, dreamboat artist who is obviously the sensitive type that finds beauty in everything and can eat pussy for hours.”

They dissolved into laughter, and Genesis felt much better. Avery spent the rest of the visit making her try on different outfits, makeup, and accessories. When Genesis complained, Avery reminded her that she’d been cursed with sons who refused to wear anything aside from basketball shorts and sweatshirts. So, of course, Genesis grudgingly humored her while she played dress up.

By the time her best friend left, Genesis felt like she might be ready to meet Pack Rossi.

“Do you have any additional questions now that you’ve had time to digest the information I provided?” Dr. Gardiner asked, smiling brightly.

Genesis jumped. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed when the doctor had stopped talking to the driver and turned to her. They were sitting comfortably in the backseat of a private car, on their way to meet with Pack Rossi.

Genesis had a million questions running through her mind, but not many she thought the doctor could actually answer.

What am I doing? Have I lost my mind? Are my daddy issues more serious than I thought? Is there lipstick on my teeth?

“How do they run a business from so far outside the city?” Genesis asked instead.

She was using her journalist voice—the voice of someone assertive who asked the right questions, and didn’t get shaken by the answers. Inside, however, she was losing her shit. The calm she’d felt after Avery’s visit had evaporated in the morning sunlight.

Dr. Gardiner smiled again. The beautiful beta smiled a lot. Genesis couldn’t imagine that dealing with hormonal omegas and aggressive alphas was all shits and giggles, but Dr. Gardiner seemed constantly delighted by her job.

“Well, they have excellent Wi-Fi and the means to employ others to handle their errands,” the doctor replied, absently smoothing her dark hair despite the fact that her stylish bun was impeccable. “Orlando goes into the office a few times a week, I believe, but I imagine the heads of really successful businesses rarely have to be intimately involved in the day-to-day operations.”

Genesis nodded, her gut tightening. She was used to wealthy people, but she didn’t necessarily like them. Coming from an affluent family, she knew how greedy and selfish wealth made people. But that was a good thing, something else that made her incompatible with Pack Rossi. They had all the right red flags for her situation—nothing deplorable or dangerous, but enough flaws to ensure that she could keep them at a healthy emotional distance. She was not interested in growing attached to these men.

Avery and Greyson’s words floated into her mind, countering her determined indifference. I see three very good reasons to give it a try , Avery had said. Try . Just as Greyson had told her to do. Was she really trying if she was determined not to like Pack Rossi?

“You said that this works best when all parties behave as if the omega is actually a part of the pack,” Genesis said, trying not to fidget under the doctor’s bright gaze. “Does that mean I’d have to live with them? I’m used to living alone.”

Though she’d grown up in a boarding school, she’d had a private room, like most of the wealthier kids at the obscenely expensive academy. She’d lived by herself since she’d graduated, guiltily accepting her fathers’ insistence on paying for a loft apartment in a secure, omega-friendly building in the city. They’d bought the flat and covered the annual fees for the twenty-four-hour security.

Genesis knew the gesture was one of duty rather than kindness. Until she was mated, her safety was the responsibility of her fathers in the eyes of many traditionalists. If something happened to her, it would reflect poorly on them, which Pack Valentine would never allow. Genesis told herself the apartment was repayment for her therapy bills. Still, once she’d gotten a job, she’d started saving to pay them back. On her salary it would probably only take about three hundred years.

That was another benefit of this temporary pack arrangement. She could sublet her place and pocket a nice sum in rent. It wouldn’t be difficult to find someone willing to do a short-term lease. The thought of committing to live with these alphas for months made Genesis feel a little queasy.

“For the best results, you really should cohabitate.” Dr. Gardiner’s smile turned apologetic. “But I think you’re going to like the setup they offer. I’ll let them tell you about it.”

Genesis nodded, hardly listening. She’d read about a thousand medical articles on the topic, so she’d known the answer to her question, even if she didn’t exactly like it. Between the alphas’ attention, a cocktail of herbal medicines, and a slow taper off of heat suppressants, her biological needs would finally be met. Her heats would ease, and her scent would change. She wouldn’t have to worry about perfuming and attracting unwanted attention on the job. Then Everett could put her in the field.

There was the drawback that if she spent too much time away from the pack, however, her scent would gradually revert. Essentially, she had to stay put if she wanted the benefits of this arrangement to stick.

“Even if you spent twenty-four hours a day with them, you’d still be perfectly safe,” Dr. Gardiner assured her. “The rut suppressants are extremely effective, even on alphas with far less self-control than Pack Rossi. They’re some of the best men I’ve worked with. They won’t mistreat you, and they won’t claim you. Although if they did, you’d be a very lucky woman.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but highly unlikely,” Genesis replied, turning to look out of the window at the passing countryside. “None of us are interested in mating, which makes this the perfect temporary match. It’s clear you’re very good at your job.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” There was a smile in the doctor’s voice, but she didn’t say anything more, leaving Genesis to her own thoughts for the rest of the ride.

When they reached the Wilder farm, Genesis’s mouth fell open. The farmhouse was a farm mansion that shouldn’t have worked but somehow did. It was a huge structure of white brick and black metal accents—traditional and modern at once. Huge windows with black frames, an endless wraparound covered porch with classic wood elements, carefully sculpted greenery, and flagstone pathways all came together in an undeniably beautiful conglomeration of old and new that suited Genesis’s perception of Pack Rossi perfectly.

“Wow,” she said, craning her neck to look up at the giant home. “Quaint.”

Dr. Gardiner laughed, stepping to Genesis’s side and following her gaze. “Wait until you see the inside. And the owners.”

The doctor led the way up the stone steps, looking the picture of professionalism with her smart bun and leather medical bag. Genesis followed, glancing at her reflection in the glass door panels. She’d pulled her thick curls back, per Avery’s demand, and put on a light layer of makeup that felt like armor. Wanting to look put together but casual, she’d opted for dark jeans that hugged her curves, a white silk blouse, and a loose red blazer that matched her lipstick. The red high-top sneakers might’ve been a questionable choice, but the business practical thing was her style and made Genesis feel comfortable in her skin.

Well, comfortable might’ve been a strong word given the way her heart was hammering in her chest. She tried to take deep, calming breaths, surreptitiously attempting to huff the beta doctor’s neutral, calming scent before the inevitable onslaught of alpha pheromones. When Dr. Gardiner rang the doorbell, Genesis had the wild thought that this was her last chance to escape, to return to the life she knew before everything changed forever. She fought the urge to turn and run back to the car.

Then the door opened, and a smiling beta welcomed them into a foyer that smelled like cardamom and cloves and suede, and warmth and sadness and long nights spent dreaming beneath the stars. Genesis felt like the house was drawing her in, its scent inviting her deeper, toward the source of the delicious aroma. It wrapped around her like a buttery soft blanket.

“Thank you, Enid, I’ll take care of our guests from here.”

The voice was like the home’s scent brought to life. It was melted caramel, sweet and soothing. It made her chest feel warm and her lower belly clench.

Genesis turned slowly toward the voice, heart pounding. Was this anxiety over the situation, or was she overreacting to this house and its inhabitants? At this point in her heat cycle and on her suppressants, she shouldn’t respond so strongly to this slight brush with alpha pheromones.

“Dr. Gardiner, a pleasure seeing you again,” Orlando Rossi said in that smooth caress of a voice. “And you must be Ms. Valentine. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

Pack Rossi’s leader was even more handsome in person than in the dozens of pictures in his file and those Genesis had found of him online. He was biracial, like her, with a Black mother and European sire, but his sandy brown skin was a few shades darker than hers. He was tall, but leaner than most alphas, as accentuated by his immaculately tailored suit. His curly salt-and-pepper hair was neatly styled and trimmed, as was his matching goatee. His shrewd hazel eyes studied her from behind simple, round-rimmed glasses.

It took a few seconds for Genesis’s brain to remember how speech worked. Her voice came out a bit higher than usual. “Please call me Genesis. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rossi.”

The alpha’s lips quirked in a smile as he shook her hand. “Please call me Orlando, Genesis.”

A shiver ran through her at the sound of her name in that caramel voice. With her hand in his, she could better decipher which of the house’s scents belonged to him: bergamot, cinnamon, and cardamom. Sweet and spicy and warm, like tea by a fire on a crisp fall evening.

Genesis hadn’t become such a good journalist without developing a keen eye and strong intuition. Now, that intuition was telling her that her initial assessment of Pack Rossi was completely incorrect.

These alphas were definitely dangerous.