Page 36 of Meadowsweet and Marigold
Truth is, he recognized something in her today — something beyond the delicate features and graceful movements.
A determination to survive. To rebuild.
The same fierce will that carried him through his darkest days after losing everything he thought would define his future.
A branch scrapes against the window, carried by the rising wind.
Night comes earlier now as autumn deepens its hold on the valley. Meadow moves to stir the stew, letting the rich aroma of herbs and root vegetables fill his senses, grounding him in the present.
He wonders what Marigold is doing now, whether she's second-guessing her decision to accept his offer. Whether she's alone in that little rental cottage on the edge of town, or if Cypress has stopped by to check on her.
I doubt Cypress Wolfe has even introduced himself. He just got back from some commitments in the big city. I barely know him myself, though I feel less worried about him being around because he’s one of those rarities.
A rare Male Omega.
You don’t see them anywhere honestly. Their rarity should be appreciated, but many male omegas hide in the shadows or act like Alphas because those in power love to abuse such individuals.
Enjoy auctioning them off and plaguing their lives with cruelty.
Willowbend doesn’t tolerate any of that stuff.
No black market, no selling of Omegas. No hidden abuse and drug dealing.
If you weren’t an open book in these parts, you faced the consequences of being escorted right out.
Voluntarily or by force, if it means keeping the peace in these cozy meadows and valleys.
At least there weren’t very many Alphas around where she lived, from the address he confirmed when she filled out the form with her general information for the hiring process.
The thought of another Alpha in her space sends an involuntary growl rumbling in his chest.
"Get it together," he scolds himself, shaking his head at his own territorial instinct. "She's not yours to protect."
Yet the Alpha part of him disagrees vehemently. It’s hard to not think of her well-being and how it’s absolutely his concern, that every instinct screaming to shelter and safeguard her is justified.
The conflict leaves him restless, prowling his own home like a caged animal.
He abandons the stew to simmer and moves to the living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows frame the twilight landscape. The mountains rise in the distance, ancient sentinels watching over the valley, indifferent to the small human dramas unfolding in their shadow.
His phone buzzes on the coffee table, Gus's name lighting up the screen.
"How'd it go with Marigold?" Gus asks when Meadow answers, no preamble is needed between old friends.
Of course, he’d be one of the few I ever told anything about in real-time, which is exactly why he’s calling to check in because if I’m thinking and talking about it, that means it’s a big deal to me.
A big deal to our pack.
Meadow drops onto the couch, stretching his long legs toward the unlit fireplace.
"She's starting tomorrow. We'll see."
A pause on the other end.
"That's it? 'We'll see'? Cypress said she barely leaves that cottage except for essentials.” He’s more intrigued that Cypress has been watching her but hasn’t introduced himself. Or at least it seems. “Getting her to work at the ranch is huge."
"Don't make it into something it's not," Meadow warns, though he knows Gus's assessment is correct. "Cypress probably only observed her since she moved in, and he was the one who placed the poster on her door and around the area poles to gauge interest. Not like it’s deliberate or anything…but she’s an Omega and she needs work. I need help. Simple transaction."
Gus's laugh carries through the line.
