“Icannot fucking believe I let you guys talk me into this,” I called across the room to my two best friends, currently two tiny pictures on my phone.

“It’s called being supportive,” Trinity said. “Not to mention I could get in serious trouble for doing it at all. So, you’re welcome.”

I grumbled something about her being supportive of nothing but my ass as I tried to shove the suitcase closed. But it didn’t want to. In fact, it seemed to be refusing to close in an attempt to not get on the plane.

Me too, suitcase. Me. Fucking. Too.

“But you’re coming back for good, right?” The second voice asked. Softer and sweeter than Trinity’s. Because Ocean was about as soft and sweet as they came. “Like, once you’re back, you’re going to call a moving company and actually be home?”

Not looking at the camera, I glanced around the bare bones bedroom I’d lived in for the last year. It’s not like I was particularly attached to this place. I wasn’t. But being home was complicated, and I honestly didn’t know how I’d feel once I was there.

And the clusterfuck that was going to happen after I got off the plane wouldn’t help.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe?”

“Come on, Iz,” she begged. “We miss you. It sucks that you’re on the other side of the country, and don’t pretend you like it. We all know you don’t. Beau can suck an egg. He doesn’t get to chase you off.”

A snorting, cackling sound came through the phone, and Trinity covered her face to hide the mimosa now coming through her nose. “Suck an egg? Really?”

In spite of myself, I smiled. “Be nice, Rin. Ocean’s not going to tell my ex to go fuck himself.”

No, that was my job. If I could muster up the courage to do it instead of hauling ass across the country and hiding. Their little plan was going to help. Supposedly. Personally, I had my doubts.

Plans made while drunk and sad didn’t tend to work out well for me. But it was too late to turn back now. The deposit was paid, the questionnaire was filled out, and even though I had my doubts—and absolutely no interest in men or Alphas—showing up to my sister’s wedding extravaganza alone, with my ex as the best man?

Not a fucking option.

Which was why the St. James pack was meeting me when I got off the plane today. So they could pretend to be with me. First for my parents’ anniversary party and being thrown into the deep end with people I hadn’t seen in a year, and then everything else.

I shook my head and tried to shut the suitcase again, putting all my weight on it and going slowly.

“You’re second guessing again,” Trinity said.

“Of course I am.” I forced the words out between my teeth. “Hiring a pack of escorts to take me to my sister’s wedding and pretend to be my… I don’t even know what, for three full weeks, is frankly not high on the list of ‘best decisions Isolde Allen has made.’”

Ocean tilted her head. “Is there actually a list?”

“No,” I sighed. “Well, not one that’s written down. It’s a mental list. Two lists. This is on the worst decision list.”

“What else is on there?”

Trinity snorted into her glass again. “Dating Beau in the first place?”

I ignored her. “That, and this. Pretty much it.” Finally, I shoved the bunched up shirt in the way of the zipper just far enough for the suitcase to close. “Victory!”

“Good. Now get your ass to the airport. You have hunks to meet.”

I glared at my friend, who was getting cut off from champagne even if I had to reach through the phone to do it. “Don’t start.”

Trinity leaned forward, her eyes startlingly clear and serious. “No, Iz, you don’t start. Beau and his too-tan ass don’t deserve you. What you deserve is to walk into that anniversary party tonight with your head held high and hot men surrounding you to prove what an idiot he is for choosing to let you go.

“So stop acting like you’re committing some hideous crime by doing it. You’re not taking advantage of them. This is their job and they enjoy it. And if you happen to get some excellent dick along the way, so be it.”

I flopped back on the bed. “You had me until the last bit. I’m not paying them to have sex with me. I don’t want sex. I don’t want anyone. I just want to be alone.”

“You haven’t seen them yet,” Trinity muttered.

My friend interviewed the secretive pack for her magazine. An exclusive feature on the elite pack of anonymous escorts to the rich and famous. Somehow, no one had figured out who they actually were. But she knew now, and when I’d called my friends drunk and crying about being lonely and dreading seeing Beau again, Trinity broke every rule in the book and sent me their number. Told me to buck up and ask them to be my escort.

I did.

For whatever reason, they said yes.

It took most of my savings, but money was just money and I could make more. I couldn’t take back the shame of facing my ex alone. Did that make me weak? Maybe. But as much as my stomach twisted at the idea of hiring them, there was an undercurrent of relief too.

I wouldn’t be alone.

Trinity and Ocean coached me through the call, on video through my computer, listening to my—admittedly teary—request, and then helped me fill out the questionnaire the pack sent.

The incredibly detailed questionnaire, which lightly covered things like basic family and favorite color. And more sexual questions than I’d ever read in my life.

And because I was drunk and sad and more than a little desperate, I answered honestly. So now this pack of strangers knew everything about me, including how I imagined being fucked, and I knew nothing about them.

I didn’t think they would even give me their real names.

“I don’t need them for sex,” I finally said. “I need them so I can look people in the eye when I’m there and Beau has his arm around his fiancée. That’s it.”

Trinity shrugged. “I’m just saying. There are worse things than shacking up with smoking hot Alphas for a few weeks. You’re paying them anyway. Might as well get all the benefits.”

I tried to cover my flinch, but didn’t hide it fast enough.

“Rin.” Ocean scolded. “Really?”

“Sorry. Seems like the champagne has more of a hold on my mouth than I thought.”

“It’s okay. I need to get going anyway if I’m going to make my flight.”

“And we want that,” Ocean said with a smile. “We’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am. Trinity, try not to be too drunk to party?”

She winked. “Nah, I’m saving the real thing for you, babe.”

I rolled my eyes as I ended the call, wincing again at the memories. What Trinity said wasn’t too far off what Beau had said after unceremoniously dumping me. Within weeks, he’d been promoted, and was dating someone else at the company who was beneath him. He said he was already paying her, might as well take advantage since he hadn’t been getting any with me.

Putting on my standard travel clothes—leggings and a plain t-shirt so I had to do as little as possible at airport security—and putting on scent canceller, I made sure I had everything I needed before leaving the house. I wouldn’t be back for at least a month, hence shoving my entire life into a hardshell suitcase.

At the very least, the plane was comfortable. My parents insisted on bumping me to first class. They gave me champagne, and I took it to calm my nerves. Because even if it would be fine, I was still meeting the St. James pack at the airport so we could go straight to my family’s estate like we were together, and my stomach was in knots.

I choked a laugh, making the Beta businessman next to me look over like I was a naughty child. But the comparison wasn’t lost on me. My stomach was in knots, and I was going to meet a pack full of Alphas, who likely had very large knots, if this was what they did for a living.

By the time the plane was making its final descent, the napkin that came with the champagne was in tatters across my lap and seat, my hands gripping the armrests tight enough to whiten my knuckles.

It wasn’t too late to turn around, right?

As soon as we touched down I flipped my phone on and texts started coming through.

MOM

Please let me know when you land. We’re so excited to see you!

OCEAN

It’s going to be okay, Iz. We’re not going to let Beau ruin this for anyone. Especially you.

TRINITY

Sorry for the asshole comment. But I stand by the sentiment. Can’t wait for you to get here with your eye candy!

UNKNOWN

We’ve arrived and will be waiting at baggage claim.

The last text was only a few minutes ago. My stomach tumbled with nerves. What if they weren’t as nice as Trinity said they were? What if they were awful and I just roped myself into spending three weeks with men I couldn’t stand? What if they smelled bad?

I pressed my head back into the seat as we taxied, cursing scents. If it weren’t for scents, I probably wouldn’t be here in the first place. Alphas and their fucking instincts.

Normally, I loved being an Omega. But in the last year it hadn’t exactly served me well. I pulled my thoughts out of the spiral they liked to fall down and typed out a response.

ISOLDE

Just landed. Will be there soon.

Time to face the music. I stopped in the bathroom on the way to baggage claim, and I looked about as good as someone could after being on a plane for five hours. But I ran a brush through my hair and put on a little lip gloss. I didn’t lie to my friends—I wasn’t paying these men to have sex with me. But I still cared enough to make a good impression.

Or at least not make a bad impression.

Joining the crush of people heading toward baggage claim, I ignored the butterflies in my stomach. Which definitely had everything to do with the party tonight and seeing Beau. Not meeting this pack.

Nope.

Definitely not.

The array of drivers and family holding up signs came into view as I rode down the escalator.

To the left, I saw a sign with my name on it, held by a built redhead. Behind him, there were other men, standing together and talking.

Fuck.

Trinity was right.

They were hot.

My one saving grace was that they didn’t know what I looked like either, so I had a chance to stare at them openly. I was far from the only one doing that. They stood out in a good way. In an incredible way.

I walked toward them, and as I entered their space, each of them looked at me. The bubble of their scents rolled over me, one after another. So good. Holy crap.

Omegas couldn’t scent match outside of heat, but these were definitely some of the best smelling Alphas I’d ever come across.

“Umm, hi,” I said.

The redhead froze for a second, gaze roving over me before he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. His eyes were blue, and I got lost in them for a second. Spending time with them for three weeks? Getting to just stare at them and scent them?

I was so fucked.

Like he could read my mind, he smiled deeper. “You must be Isolde.”

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