K’s Den, the second pack house, the future young Alpha house. 10:13 a.m.
•
The second pack house woke slower than the sun. The place looked like the aftermath of a storm, one made of liquor, music, and horrible decisions. Bottles on the counter. A shirt hanging from the ceiling fan. Omari and Nala were already up. Of course they were. The true Omegas of the group tiptoed through the wreckage, a rhythm between them as they righted chairs, stacked glasses, and coaxed the coffeemaker into life. Nala cracked eggs with the precision of a surgeon, and Omari swept the floor without even looking at it, his mind elsewhere but his hands efficient.
„Oh f***k me.” From the hall, a low groan.
„Not after last night.” Lillith’s voice floated back, dry as desert air.
„I’m still recovering from watchi
