Page 69 of A Pack for the Wedding
"But what would you even do if you sold?" Luna asks, swirling her wine. "You love the shop."
"I do." I stare down at my lap. "But the money... it changes everything. Suddenly, the map is wide open. I could go anywhere, do anything, and—"
"Whoa, whoa." Luna sets her glass down. "What do you mean,anywhere? Why wouldn't you stay here?"
I pick at the seam again. "You know I've had a lot of thoughts about being here. Since Grant."
"But the wedding," Maren says quietly. "Us?"
"I haven't decided anything yet." I look between them. "But if I do sell, what would I do here? Lakeview's not exactly known for its booming job market."
Neither of them says anything for a second.
"In any case, obviously I would stay until after Harper's wedding," I say.
Luna gives a slow, heavy nod, while Maren just stares at me over the rim of her glass, taking a long, deliberate sip of wine.
"Look," Maren sighs, setting her glass down. "We're adults. We all have to do what's best for us. If you leave, I'll be absolutely devastated, but I'll understand. Just... don't do anything hasty, okay? You have a lot of options."
Luna doesn't say anything, which from Luna is louder than a whole speech. She reaches over and squeezes my hand.
I take a breath.
"It's just that—I moved here for Grant," I say. "The shop, the apartment, the town... I chose all of it because he was here. And then he dumped me, and now he's walking around town with his new omega, and I'm just... still here. In the life I built around someone who replaced me."
Luna squeezes my hand tighter.
"But I guess eventhatisn't so simple anymore." I push off the couch, suddenly too restless to sit, and start pacing the rug. "Because there's something else. Arguably more important than a buyout."
Luna draws her legs up onto the couch, tucking her feet beneath her, settling in. "I'm ready."
Maren pulls a throw pillow into her lap. "Hit us."
So I tell them. All of it.
The fact that I'm scent-matched to Mason, Knox, and Arthur. The three of them, together. And that I'm diagnosed an omegastress haze, and the only way to recover is feel truly safe, home. A feeling that, so far, I've only found withthem.
I say it fast, the way you rip off a bandage, and then I sit back down on the couch and wait.
Lunadetonates.
"WHAAAT?" She's on her feet, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass. "Beth.Beth.What the hell???"
Maren blinks. Exhales. "Well," she says carefully. "That's a lot of information for one evening."
"Right?" I say.
"No, notright," Luna says, replacing me as the pacer. "You can't just—you can't just drop the flower shopandthe maybe-leavingandthe scent-matched-to-my-fake-pack thing on us in the same five minutes and then sayrightlike we're talking about the weather, Beth."
Maren reaches over and calmly moves Luna's wine glass before she knocks it over.
"She has a point," Maren says.
Luna stops pacing. She plants her hands on her hips, staring at me like I've grown a second head. "What do the alphas even have to say about all of that?"
"I—" I start, but the words die in my throat as a heavythumpechoes from somewhere down the hall.
All three of us freeze.
