Page 4 of Marigold Run

No. It’s easier to pretend to forget everything.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to make a few friends,” Traven says as he nods at a pair of passing nurses. They both smile at me, and I push away from the counter.

“I don’t need friends.” I walk off, making my way to the cafeteria. I’ve got twenty minutes until they stop serving dinner, and I’m starving. I skipped lunch, not wanting to risk missing my phone call with Izan’s pack. We only get to talk once a week, and I can’t waste a single opportunity to make them want me.

“Everyone needs friends.” Traven follows, and I pick up my pace.

“You sound like a preschool teacher.” I round the corner, almost smacking into a small, fairly new, male omega. He startles, then shrinks away as I pass. “I don’t plan on being here much longer anyway.” I toss the crushed cup into a nearby trash bin. “There’s no point in making friends now.”

“Yeah?” Traven says with an excited lift in his voice. “Are things going well with the Silva pack? Do you think they’re the one? Or thefour?” He laughs at his little joke.

“I guess.” I pull to a stop right outside the cafeteria. “Don’t you have work to do?” I ask, cutting a quick look back down the hall. “Or are you going to follow me around all day?” I instantly hear my sharp tone and wish I hadn’t said that.

Half the time, my words tumble out of my mouth, and I don't realize how they sound until it’s too late. But I don’t know how to apologize for the way I talk, so I usually just shut up and wait for the offended party to walk off.

Thankfully, Traven doesn’t look angry. In fact, the corners of his smile fall, shifting his expression from friendly to something that resembles sadness. “You know,” he sighs as if struggling with some kind of emotion. “I'm gonna miss you when you’re gone, omega.” There’s a shocking amount of sincerity in his voice. It instantly makes me uncomfortable. “You make things around here very interesting.”

I have no idea what to say to that.

Traven is a nice guy. He’s usually the first to offer condolences when a pack rejects me, and he’s always trying to make me laugh with the worst jokes. He’s decent enough. But I’m shit when it comes to heartfelt emotions, so I do what I always do when someone is too nice to me: I snip at him.

“Whatever,” I say flatly. Then I walk off, leaving the beta in the hallway. This time he doesn’t follow me.

The cafeteria workers smile, trying to make conversation as I order my food. I keep my answers short, too hungry to chat. The long rectangular tables are dotted with other omegas, all wearing the same powder blue dress as me, finishing up their meals. I take my tray and walk straight to an empty table in the back.

No one ever sits with me, and I like it that way. I prefer peace and quiet while I eat. It allows me to focus on what’s important.Getting out of here so I can find Stefan.

All I have is the name of the asshole that took my brother—Cardis—and the memory of a shitty pack tattoo. But it should be enough to find them…assuming I can get my hands on a computer.

I slowly eat my food, thinking about the next steps in my plan: the sexy things I should say, and the way I should act during my next phone call with the Silva pack. They seem pretty enthralled with me. I’ve only had one other pack court me for as long as the Silva’s have, and I’m hopeful they’ll move forward and claim me soon, so I can get the fuck out of here.

“Good evening, omega,” Dr. Ambrose strolls up with a huge smile on his face, and panic slams into me. The only time I see the beta outside of our scheduled therapy appointments is when he comes to tell me I’m being rejected…again.

I guess I shouldn’t be shocked that the Silva pack doesn't want me.

It doesn't matter how hard I try, they all eventually back out. And it’s devastating.

That’s what I get for getting my hopes up.

“How are you today, Marigold?” Ambrose asks. I instantly frown when he uses my proper name, and he winces. “Sorry about that.Mari.” He exaggerates my name as he corrects himself. “It’s been a while since I made that mistake.” He chuckles and I turn my attention back to my food.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to keep my emotions in check. After all, there’s a slim chance I’m not being rejected. It’s not likely, but I have to hope.

“I want to check on my favorite omega.” Ambrose moves across from me. His bald head throws off a high sheen as he sits. “I also heard they had chocolate cake today.” He leans in as if telling a secret. “Maybe we can convince one of the cooks to let us have an extra big piece.” He winks, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

I hate the games everyone here plays. No one ever comes out and says anything directly to our faces. Instead, the doctors and nursesslowlyease into every difficult conversation, it’s like being dipped into bubbling hot lava one inch at a time.I’d rather be tossed in.

“What happened?” I demand to know, dropping my fork. “Don’t dance around it. Just tell me.”

Ambrose’s blue eyes go wide, clearly surprised by my tone. I don’t know why. He’s been my primary therapist for two years. He should be used to me by now.

“Okay,” he nods, dropping the overly-sweet act. “How do you feel about the Silva pack?”

I’m a little surprised by his question and it takes me a minute before I can answer. “I like them.” My fingers tremble as I dance between scared and hopeful. I push my hands under my legs, hiding them. “I like them a lot. Why?”

“Are yousureyou like them?” Ambrose’s eyes narrow, scanning the full length of my face. “Do you feel there’s arealconnection?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “I adore them. Izan, Dassy, Hutch, and Everly. They’reperfectfor me.”

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