Page 60 of Pack End Game

When she speaks, her voice comes out low and eerie enough to send a chill down my whole damn spine.

"Get... out..."

No one moves a muscle.

For one frozen second, I wonder if it's worth trying to throw our omega over my shoulder in the hopes that Spencer can somehow fight off whatever evil spirit is trying to possess her.

Then Mia bursts out laughing.

She laughs so hard that she has to bend at the waist, putting her hands on her knees, to try to catch her breath and calm down. When she can finally speak again, she says, “Just kidding. This isn’t the house for us. We can go.”

And then she strolls right out the front door, flouncing away as if nothing happened.

The failed murder house tour should feel like a funny story, and maybe someday it will be something I pull out to amuse people at parties. Mia's creepy little possession act might have shaved a decade off my lifespan, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to loving how smug she was in the car afterward. Absolutely delighted with herself for scaring us.

But right now, I can't get past the frustration I feel over crossing another house off the list.

Another day gone.

Tomorrow, our team faces its biggest rival in one of the most important games of the season. I should be focused on that, but instead, my brain is occupied with worrying about whether the perfect nest exists or if I'll ever get to knot our omega.

I lean my head against Mia's concrete apartment building and take a deep breath of cool evening air. The others are upstairs prepping for dinner. After finding out how important this week's game is, Mia insisted that tonight's dinner adhere strictly to the team nutritionist's guidelines for Spencer and me. Freddie isn't thrilled, but Spencer handled that well by putting him in charge of tossing the salad.

Freddie has endless jokes about tossed salad.

After prepping the chicken breasts to go in the oven, I excused myself to go outside for some air. I haven't been alone long before the building door opens, and I turn my head to see Spencer scanning the sidewalk for me.

His eyes land on me leaning against the building, and his gaze softens. His mouth is pinched with worry as he approaches slowly.

"You okay?"

"Not really," I admit.

He leans against the wall beside me, our shoulders touching, and waits.

His presence is like a calming balm on my rising anxiety levels. The worry feels more manageable with him at my side. I reach down and clasp our hands together, trying to draw more of his strength for myself.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I work up the courage to say the words, "I'm worried. The odds of us finding a house before Mia goes into heat seem close to zero. I'm not sure I know what kind of home we're even looking for. And the longer this takes..." I trail off, my jaw tight and my throat clogged with emotion.

"The harder it gets," Spencer finishes for me quietly.

"Yeah." I laugh once, the sound humorless. "I'm getting more agitated by the day. Every time she cuddles up with us on the couch or even simply smiles in my direction, I'm using every bit of self-control I can find to stop myself from dragging her into the nearest room and knotting her."

Spencer's jaw flexes, not in judgment, but in understanding.

"It's hard for me too," he admits quietly. A crack in his levelheaded armor.

"What if we just move into her apartment for now? Make it official and get a bigger bed?"

He shakes his head immediately. "There's no room."

We both know that.

"What are we going to do if she goes into heat, then?" I need the head of our pack to have answers. Ones that will soothe my anxiety and reassure me that nothing will happen to risk us ending up in a position to lose our omega.

A bad heat experience with the pack could sour her feelings toward us. It could ruin everything.

Spencer exhales and tightens his grip on my hand. "There's always an omega center. We could rent a private nest suite." His voice is deadpan and miserable.