Page 39 of Marigold Run

“I’m fine,” I say, staring at the bright red fabric. I’m lost in a trance, consumed by the fact that I actually own something in this world. Something I didn’t have to fight for or steal.

“What are you thinking?” Everly’s voice is so gentle it’s almost impossible not to answer her.

“It’s weird owning things,” I say, lifting the panties to my face and sniffing them. They smell of nothing, waiting for me to scent them. “The few items of clothing I was given at Havenfield never felt like mine. They reeked of the staff and past omegas.” I frown, not sure why I shared that, but I feel compelled to say more. “It always felt like those clothes were on loan, something for me to wear while I waited to be claimed. But now, I have a whole closet bursting with soft leggings, flowing shirts, and pretty dresses.” My voice slips into a whisper, “It’s a little surreal.” I finally look up at Everly and immediately wince.

She looks so fucking sad for me. Her eyes pull in the corners and she has a hand pressed to her chest.

I should have kept my fucking mouth shut.

“I don’t want to wear them right now,” I say a little too forcefully, pushing the panties back at her.

“Oh.” Everly fumbles, almost dropping the garment. “Okay.” She gives me an awkward smile, before crossing the room to the dresser.

I wish Dassy was here to lighten the mood.There’s something about that alpha that makes the air a little easier to breathe.

“Dinner is in a few hours.” Everly changes the subject, and I push out a slow breath of relief, rubbing the back of my neck. The tension in my shoulders is almost unbearable.“I think Chef Andres is making a roast.” Everly folds my underwear into tiny squares, before slipping them into the top drawer. “Do you want to take a nap before dinner? We’ve had a rather big day, and you should probably rest.”

I swear this is the hundredth time she’s brought up a damn nap.

“I’m good,” I say, unable to stop myself from sounding flat and annoyed. I should try to be nicer, but I haven’t had a moment to myself since I arrived here. Between the constant chatter all day and Izan fucking me all night, I’m very overwhelmed.

“That’s okay.” Everly hangs her head, and I instantly feel like an asshole. I know she just wants to help me, but right now, my nerves are shot.

“There’s no way I can sleep right now,” I say, deciding to tell her the truth. “I’m still trying to get used to everything. And it’s a lot.” I hold my hands out, gesturing around the room. Her big eyes follow the motion of my hands, taking in all the new furniture and art. “I’m not used to the sights and smells of your home. And being around people that want to constantly talk or touch me is…” I let out a heavy sigh, already regretting everything I’ve said. “This is all very new to me.”

Everly’s gray eyes slip from my face to the pale pink carpet at her feet. I can’t tell if she’s upset or just thinking. “Okay.” She finally nods, her tone light and determined. “What else?” She leans in as if trying to hear a secret.

“What else?” I ask, confused by her question.

“You need breaks from people,” she says simply. “Less talking and less touching. What else do you need?”

I squint at her pretty face, not sure if she’s making fun of me or not. But honestly, that doesn't seem like her style. Everly is too sweet. Too proper. “Look,” I lick my lips, hoping like hell I don’t sound like a bitch. “Why do you care?”

Everly’s curious expression instantly falls, but it’s too late to take it back. “Well,” her eyes move across the pink carpet, thinking, “I care because I want you to be happy.” She looks crushed. Like I killed her favorite goldfish.

“Okay.” I pitch my voice a little higher, hoping it makes me sound more friendly. “But why do you care whatIwant? Or if I eat or nap?” I’m getting off-topic, but this is my chance to tell her to back off.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, twisting her fingers together. “I just want to make sure you don’t get sick. I don’t mean to be pushy?—”

“That’s not what I meant,” I quickly say. “You’re not pushy.” She is, but I feel bad. “But I’m not sick. I feel fine.”

“I know.” Her shoulders tense and tears gather in her gray eyes. “Omegas are so fragile and sensitive,” she says as if remembering something awful. “They can be happy one second and at death’s door the next.”

All my fire instantly fades as curiosity takes hold. “Everly?” I reach for her hand. Her fingers are like ice. “Did you know an omega that got sick and died?”

The beta nods, the movements jerky. “Yes.” She sniffles loudly, and a few tears slip from under her glasses. “Her name was Brea.”

I wrap both of my hands around hers, letting her talk if she wants to.

“We didn’t have her long,” she says to her feet. “Only a few months. But she was here, happy as can be, and then she was gone.”

I tilt my head, trying to make sense of the tiny amount of information she just gave me. “We?” I glance around the room, taking in the pink carpet and framed flowers. “Everly?” I pray I’m wrong, and my next question is a ridiculous one. “Did your pack have an omega before me?”

Everly gives me the slightest nod and I release her hand.

Every basic instinct in my tired body screams to life. The urge to track Izan down and rage at him for touching another omega beats hard in my chest.

“I shouldn't have told you.” Everly hides her mouth with her hands. “I’m so sorry. Izan said that we needed to wait to tell you, but it just felt wrong keeping her a secret.”

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