Page 71 of Marigold Run

And I’m tense again. “Yes?” I sit up, ready for whatever he’s about to throw at me.

“It’s about Donovan Tenus.”

And now I’m fucking enraged. My voice drops to an angry growl as I lean over the phone, “What about him?”

“We’ve had a falling out,” Stan says, and it takes everything in me not to scream ‘I told you so’ at the top of my lungs. “He’s hemorrhaging friends and is desperate. Hell, I’m convinced his own pack is about to push him out. Anyway, don’t be surprised if he calls trying to get on your good side.”

A bitter laugh erupts from my chest. “He’d be a fool to call me after what he did to Dassy.”

“Dassy made his choices,” Stan says simply, and I curl my fists into tight balls.

“And so did Donovan,” I snarl. “Dassy is lucky to be alive.”

“You know the rules, Izan,” he says. “Once you join a pack, you don’t leave. And that’s what Dassy did in the end. He didn’t have the balls to formally reject Don. No fight. No confrontation. He just disappeared.”

“He was inrehab,” I yell into the phone.

“It doesn't matter,” Stanley’s voice grows, my anger feeding into him. “It makes DassyandDon look bad. It makes them both look weak.”

I want to roar into the phone that Stan is a motherfucker if he believes that Dassy is weak, but I know it’s not his fault. This is the way of things. When you leave a pack, you face them. You fight if you have to, but you go through with the rejection. Dassy didn’t get a chance to do that because Don left him for dead.

“You know I like Dassy,” Stan says, his voice a little calmer. “He’s a good alpha that got a raw deal. Just watch your ass when it comes to Donovan. That’s all I’m saying.”

I clench my jaw, trying like hell to relax. “Thanks, Stan.” I press my palms to my eyes, not stopping until I see tiny stars. “I appreciate the warning.”

“No problem,” he says like he expected my reaction all along. “But before I go, I should offer my congratulations on your new omega. I wasn’t sure you’d get another one after your loss.”

“Thanks,” I say, eager to change the subject. “Mari has settled in quite nicely.” Even saying her name makes me feel better. The knot in my chest loosens and my shoulders relax.

“While the Morder does provide the most lovely omegas, we can’t always guarantee they’ll be in good health.” Stan speaks like he’s giving a fucking sales pitch. “My own mate came from there and he’s as healthy and strong as they come. But what happened to Brea was a real shame, and I’m sorry.”

I can hear the regret in his voice. Stanley was the first to call when Brea died, and he sent so many flowers. I think a part of him felt responsible since we got her from his market. “It was a gamble,” I say. “Everly just wanted an omega she could help. But Havenfield was a wonderful alternative.”

“Good for you,” Stan’s voice turns a little condescending. “I could never subject myself to their bullshit paperwork and invasive interviews, but I'm glad it worked out.”

“Me too. Mari is a good omega. A bit stubborn but I kind of like the fight.” I smile, looking forward to “fighting” with her tonight.

Stanley lets out a booming laugh. “My own omega started out submissive as hell. Now he’s got nothing but fight. That boy will be the death of me.”

“Perhaps in a month or two we should get our mates together,” I say, wanting to expose Mari to other omegas. It’s the one thing the doctors recommended with Brea that we couldn’t do: Another omega’s presence could have been very healing for her, but no one wants their omega around a sickly one.

“You should definitely bring your new omega over. Maybe we’ll both get lucky and they’ll fight with each other and leave us alone.” Stanley laughs again.

I let out a polite laugh, eager to get off the phone. Stanley’s one of those guys that will talk forever if you let him. “Alright then, I’ll get the contracts signed and over to your office today.”

“Good,” Stan says. Then he abruptly hangs up. I swear the man doesn’t know how to end a phone call.

I turn my attention to my laptop, bringing up the latest version of the contract. I hit print then rub the back of my neck hard. But instead of printing, the fucking machine across the room makes a sad clicking sound, then beeps loudly.

“Piece of shit.” I march across the room, deciding that once I have this printed I’m done for the day. I’m exhausted. Mari isabout to start her heat and I’m going to need to rest before then. She’s wild enough when her hormones are under control. I can’t imagine how feral she’ll be once her animalistic urges take over.

I check the paper tray, relieved to find the jam quickly. I fix it, then press the reset button. It always reprints the last file, but I’m too impatient to cancel this and reprint it.

“Hey.” Hutch strolls into my office as the printer begins shooting out crisp sheets of printed paper. “What’s that?”

“The Stanley contract,” I say, watching as the pages slip onto the tray. “It looks like we’re going to wrap it up this week.”

“Yeah?” Hutch’s brows raise, just as happy as I am.

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