Page 5 of Marigold Run

Ambrose’s mouth pulls into a tight line, and I can tell he’s working up the courage to say something. “I worry about you, Mari.” He places his hand on the table in front of me. I stare at it,not interested in being touched. “Most omegas are picky about the alphas they pursue. You just seem…”

My expression grows pinched as I wait for him to insult me—call me desperate or maybe even a whore. I’ve been called worse. “I seemwhat?” I ask, daring him to finish his sentence.

“Eager,” Ambrose nods as if happy with his choice of words. “You have never once rejected a pack, even those that are clearly a poor match for you.” He drops his voice as a handful of giggling omegas sit at the table next to us. “It’s clear you want out of here,” he whispers, “and I don’t want you to settle.”

I sit a little taller, looking the beta right in the eyes. “Iwantto be claimed by a pack.” I let that fact hang in the air for a moment. “Isn’t the whole point of me being here to place me with a pack?”

Ambrose’s throat works as he swallows, and then he lets out a slow breath. “It is.” He clasps his hands, resting them on the table. “But the important thing is to place you with therightpack. Not just any group of alphas will do.” He pauses, looking deep into my eyes. “Do you want the Silva pack?”

“Yes,” I say in a loud, clear voice as I cross my arms. “Iwantthem.” My pulse picks up, and I lean in. “Are they moving forward with claiming me? Do they want me?”

Ambrose lets out a sigh, then he presses his palms to the table as he stands. “Assuming all their paperwork is in order, they’ll be here to claim you tomorrow.”

My eyes go wide as shock and excitement erupt inside me. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Ambrose nods. “I’m going to miss you, Mari. You are a guarded omega, but there’s a sweet girl inside those walls you’ve built up. I hope you can let Izan and his pack in. I hope you…” My mind drifts as Ambrose drones on. His voice is filled with melancholy, probably saying something sentimental, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying.

I’m getting out of here.

The Havenfield Claiming Offices

Izan

This has to be the smallest office I’ve ever seen. The furniture is too big and the ceiling is too low. I can practically feel the bookshelf behind me pushing at my back, and the cluttered desk in front of me almost touches my knees. It’s tight. Almost claustrophobic.

“You were right,” Dassy says, shoving his hands into his pockets. The forceful movement makes the front of his navy blue slacks jerk at his waist. “They’re making us wait a long time.”

I lean back in my chair, stretching my back the best I can. “This is all a test,” I remind the tense alpha. “They want to see if we’re patient enough to handle an omega’s needs.” I glance at his brother.

Hutch stands next to the only window, looking cool and relaxed. He and Dassy are dressed identically today. Same crisp white dress shirt, cuffed at the elbows, and matching slacks. The twins don’t normally dress the same, but it’s kind of funnywhen they do. It clearly sets people on edge to see two massive, identical alphas.

“I hate this.” Dassy fidgets with his sleeves, pushing them up a little higher. “This was much easier in the Morder.”

I jerk at his mention of the black market, shooting him an angry glare. “Sit down,” I order in a harsh whisper.

The big blond alpha silently nods, then takes his seat next to me. The chair groans and creaks from his size.

“Good afternoon.” The office door swings open, and a dark-haired woman carrying a coffee cup steps inside. She’s tall with broad shoulders and a firm voice. It takes me a full minute to clock that she’s not an alpha.

“Good morning,” I say, not bothering to stand up. I don’t show respect to people that waste my time.

“I’m Mari’s caseworker, Vanessa Tacken.” She sits, setting her cup on a wooden coaster. There are a pair of black-rimmed glasses sitting on top of her head. “We’ve spoken on the phone a few times.”

I nod, resting my hands on my lap. I want to pull at my tie, but I don't want to look like I’m nervous. I hope Mari likes red. It’s the only silk tie I own, but at the time I thought the fabric choice was more important than the color.

“Did anyone offer you a drink?” Tacken asks. “Coffee? Water?”

“We’re good,” I answer for all three of us in a commanding tone. “We’re eager to meet our omega. Is everything in order with our paperwork? Can we meet her now?”

“We have a few more things to cover before you can meet Mari.” The beta’s mouth pulls into a tense smile. It’s obvious she’s used to handling irritated alphas. “The biggest thing I want to discuss before moving forward with any paperwork, is that her body isn’t used to being tended to.”

My brows pull together in confusion. “I thought places like this allowed the omegas to tend to one another during their heats.”

“We do.” Tacken pulls a thick file off the stack in front of her. “But Mari doesn’t like aides during her heat. She suffers alone, refusing?—”

“Alone?” Dassy cuts in, as shocked as I am.

“Yes.” Tacken lets out a frustrated sigh. “She doesn’t seek help from the other omegas, and even refuses the use of devices that mimic an alpha’s knot.”

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