Page 62 of Marigold Run

“He didn’t show me that,” I say, kind of wishing he had. It definitely would have been more interesting than his office. “Tonia showed up right after we arrived, and he had to leave me to meet with some guy named Bear.”

Everly nods like she’s not surprised. “I’m sure he would have, but unfortunately, our alphas are very busy men.” She bumps her shoulder into mine. I duck my head, pretending to hide a bashful smile, but in reality, I feel like shit.

“Watch your step.” Hutch is suddenly beside me, holding out his hand. “Be careful.” He looks a few feet down the path. There’s a small cut in the land—maybe a foot wide—with the slowest trickle of water I’ve ever seen. For a second, I think about refusing his help and stepping over the damn thing on my own, but I’m too tired to be bratty right now.

“Thanks.” I place my hand in his as he guides me forward. Hutch looks all business, almost as if he’s navigating a minefield. I take one step, clearing the “obstacle” easily. Hutch nods as if relieved, then releases me.

Alphas are so weird.

We walk in silence the rest of the way there. Hutch overreacts to every bump and branch we pass as the scent of pine grows thicker. We’re getting closer to the mountain.Dassy stays at my back, his big body looming closer and closer. The heat from his chest makes the hairs on the back of my neck raise with awareness.

“Here we are.” Everly pulls me to a stop, admiring the forest in front of us.

Dassy was right.It is quite literally an overgrown patch of land with two collapsing structures. Broken bits of rock stick out of the moss-covered ground, and heavy vines of ivy hang from the trees, puddling on the forest floor. It’s obvious that no one has mourned the dead that lie here in decades. Maybe even longer. It’s weirdly beautiful. Maybe not somewhere I’d ask to visit again, but it’s still something interesting to see.

“What do you think?” Everly turns to me, and I can’t help but smile.

“It’s so sad, I can’t help but love it,” I say, exaggerating a little.

“What do you mean it’ssad?” Everly motions around as if showing me great riches. “There’s so much history here!” She points to a large, cracked slab. “There’s even a mausoleum.” She looks at me as if I couldn't possibly believe it’s anything other than amazing.

I shrug, eyeing the crumbling pile of rocks. “Are you sure that was a mausoleum? Because it kind of looks like a bear shit concrete.”

Dassy lets out a booming laugh and Everly gasps with fake offense. I like that she can take teasing in stride. “You are just as horrible as the rest of them, Marigold.” She plants her hands on her narrow hips. “I had high hopes for you, but you’ve let me down.” She tsks, and I can’t help but laugh too. Even Hutch is smiling.

“There is a decent-looking funeral pyre over there.” Hutch points over his shoulder, toward a small pine tree.

“Thank you, alpha!” Everly says, giving me and Dassy a very pointed look. “Come.” She reaches for my hand. “You have to see it.” She tugs me forward. “It’ssteepedin history.”

Dassy leans down, and whispers loudly, “That means it’s covered in dirt.” I laugh again and Everly pulls me along even faster. I let her, giggling the whole way.

I’m thankful that Dassy isn’t upset with me. I know I didn’t have the best reaction to his confession, but he’s being very kind. It’s helping me relax.

“Watch your step,” Everly says as we approach a massive old oak tree. I size it up, taking in the massive branches that cascade over the whole cemetery, as well as the roots that erupt from the ground. They twist and turn, making the ground wildly uneven.

“I think we should look into a good pair of hiking boots,” I say when the soles of my sneakers slip across the smooth roots.

“Hiking boots?” Dassy snorts. “Are you planning on scaling the mountains in the distance?”

I turn and give him a flirty smirk. “Maybe.”

“Here we are!” Everly pulls me around the tree, then comes to an abrupt stop.

I stare at the mass of rock before me. It’s not concrete like the rest of the cemetery, but it’s clearly stone that had been shaped so it was flat on top, or at least it once was flat. Now it has a deep crack through the middle, making one side slope.

“What do you think?” Everly asks.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s for funeral rites,” she says simply. I'm thankful she doesn't tease me for not knowing. “It was used for burning the bodies of honorable alphas that died in battle.”

“Oh.” I turn back to it, trying to imagine what it might have looked like all those years ago.

Big bodies, probably wrapped in linen and placed on stacks of wood and straw. Did they place flowers on their eyes? Omegas did that back in ancient times, but it’s hard to imagine an alpha would.

My eyes drift over the rock, taking in the soft moss crawling up the side and the grass swaying in the breeze. This really is a very lovely space. Very relaxing. And the wildflowers are cheerful. I turn, looking at the tiny yellow buds nestled in the grass, until I see them. Clusters of tiny pink flowers with feathery petals.Stefan’s favorite flower.

My feet move toward them, the urge to pluck one too overpowering to ignore. The stem snaps between my fingers, and the petals tickle my nose as I inhale deeply. The sickly sweet, almond-scented flower fills my nose and a wash of memories fall over me.

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