Page 69 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
My blood freezes. Not Liam’s deep, gentle rumble, but a smooth, cultured tone I know all too well.
Marcus.
“Surprised to see me, Omega?” He reaches up, removing the mask to reveal the face that has haunted my nightmares. Handsome in a conventional way, with sharp cheekbones and cold blue eyes. “You shouldn’t be. I told you I was coming.”
I take another step back. “Your mother helped provide details about your new… situation.” His lip curls with disdain as he glances around. “Though I must say, I expected better from you than this rustic little petting zoo.”
“Leave me alone, Marcus,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I back toward the path I came through. He steps closer into my space, inhaling deeply, and his eyes turn black with hatred as he catches my mates’ scents on me.
“The second I get you home, I’m going to have to fuck that smell right off of you,” he growls. “Nobody touches what’s mine.” His eyes have a possessive hunger as his dark frame stands over me.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I try to sound bold, but I am becoming increasingly terrified of what I know this man can do, and I take another small step back.
“Always so difficult,” he sighs, as if dealing with a stubborn child. “That’s what got you into trouble in the first place,remember? We could have avoided all this unpleasantness if you’d just been a good little omega and done what you were told. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”
“I’m aware,” I say. “That was the point of leaving. I didn’t want to be found.”
He laughs, the sound designed to be charming but carrying an edge of something colder. “We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. There was no need for this… extended disappearance.” His eyes flick dismissively around the farm. “Or this dramatic downgrade in lifestyle.”
“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Marcus,” I say firmly. “You tried to force a bond. You bit me without consent. You would have completed the claiming if I hadn’t had my Alpha-Away with me.”
I turn to run, but another skeleton blocks the path—one of his security, I realize with growing horror. The identical costumes weren’t a coincidence; they were a strategy. Marcus brought his own people, hiding them among legitimate visitors.
“Don’t make a scene, Emma,” Marcus says, his voice hardening as he grabs my arm. “My men are throughout this pathetic excuse for a farm, and they’re creating enough chaos that no one will notice you’re gone until it’s too late.”
As if on cue, a distant commotion carries through the night—shouts, the sound of something crashing.
“What did you do?” I demand.
“Nothing permanent,” he says with a dismissive wave. “Just enough chaos to keep them busy while we leave this hovel.”
“They’ll find me,” I say. “My mates will know something’s wrong.”
Marcus’s grip tightens painfully. “Your mates,” he spits the word like it’s poison. “Three nobodies playing house with what’s mine. Do you really think that little arrangement would last? You’re mine.”
“I am not yours. I never was.”
His nostrils flare. “You still smell unclaimed. They haven’t bonded you.” His smile returns, predatory now. “Smart of them. They knew you belonged to me.”
“Stay away from me,” I warn, searching desperately for an escape route.
“This little rebellion of yours has gone on long enough,” he says, advancing slowly. “It’s time to come home, Emma. I’ve been patient. I’ve been understanding. But my patience has limits. Do you know what your little stunt cost me? The contract that fell through when word got out that I couldn’t even control my own omega.”
“I’m not leaving Marcus, and that’s final.”
He sneers. “Do you know what the country club wives whisper when I walk by? My family’s reputation—built over generations—was damaged by your little tantrum. It stops now.”
He pulls me roughly towards the back, where a few corn stalks have been removed. “Now be a good girl and—”
A familiar bleat cuts through the night, followed by running hooves. Before either of us can react, a small white missile launches itself at Marcus’s ass, tiny horns lowered in attack.
Maple.
Marcus curses as he launches forward, stumbling. “What the fuck—get this thing off me!”
Maple’s attack gives me the opening I need. I twist in Marcus’s grip, stomping hard on his instep. He howls in pain, his hold loosening just enough for me to wrench myself free.
“Run, Maple!” I shout, pushing the little goat away from us. “Get help!”
