Page 43 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
“I was engaged,” she whispers finally. “To an alpha named Marcus Ashcroft. Powerful family, old money. My mother had agreed to the match even before discussing it with me. At first, he was charming, attentive… everything I thought I wanted.”
I stay quiet, letting her speak at her own pace.
“Then he started controlling things. Small things at first—what I wore, who I spoke to. Then bigger things—my work, my friends. He became violent when I didn’t obey.” She swallows hard. “He wanted me to stop taking suppressants before the wedding. He had this big business deal coming up and wanted to impress investors with… an omega in heat to use me as a bargaining chip. When I refused, he… he tried to force me.”
Anger flares in my chest, but I keep my expression calm, my thumb continuing its gentle circles on her hand.
“I got away,” she continues. “Barely. But his family has connections everywhere. When I called my mother for help, she insisted I return to him.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I later learned he had ‘paid’ for me. My mother always had a problem with substance abuse… guess it runs in the family. I’ve been running ever since, terrified he’d find me and…” She trails off, unable to finish.
“He won’t find you here,” I promise. “And if he does, he’ll have to go through all of us first.”
She looks up at me. “I’ve been alone most of my life. My mother was never really present… And when Marcus turned. I don’t know if I remember how to trust someone.”
“Then we’ll remind you,” I say simply. “Day by day. No pressure, no expectations… stay, Emma. Stay and give us a chance to show you how a real pack cares for their omega.”
Maple bleats softly, nudging Emma’s hand with her nose.
“Well, I can’t disappoint Maple, can I?” she says, her voice wavering between humor and emotion. Then, more seriously: “I want to stay. I’m tired of running, tired of being afraid. And this place… You all… it feels right. It feels like somewhere I belong.”
The words send warmth spreading through my entire body. I bring her hand to my lips, gently kissing her knuckles. “Then it’s settled. You’re staying.” A soft blush spreads over her cheeks.
“But I need time,” she adds quickly. “I’m not ready for… everything… yet.”
“Time—we have plenty of,” I assure her. “Fall’s just beginning.”
She nods, and her shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving, actually.” She shifts, wincing slightly as she moves to sit up straighter.
I help adjust her pillows, then place the tray across her lap. Her eyes close in appreciation as she takes her first spoonful of soup.
“This is still the best soup I’ve ever had,” she murmurs.
“Wait until you try my chili. It won three blue ribbons at the county fair.”
She laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard in days. “You’re very proud of your cooking.”
“I’m proud of many things,” I say, watching her. “Including enticing you to stay.”
After her soup, she snuggles back into bed.
I stand, reluctant to leave but knowing she needs rest. “I should let you sleep. But first, may I tell Rowan and Liam that you’re staying? They’re practically wearing holes in the kitchen floor waiting to hear how you are. But they wanted to give you space. They’ve been worried sick.”
“Yes,” she says with a smile.
19
Emma
Aknock at my door interrupts my attempts to organize my desk. It’s been two days since I woke from my suppressant overdose, gradually regaining my strength, but still confined to the cottage per Dr. Mitchell’s orders. The forced rest has given me time to think about what it means to have found my scent matches and about the possibility of truly belonging somewhere.
“Package delivery!” Theo’s voice calls cheerfully from outside.
My heart does a little flip at the sound of his voice, and I catch myself smoothing my hair before opening the door. When I pull it open, he’s standing there with a cardboard box and that warm smile that never fails to lift my spirits. Warm cinnamon-vanilla rolls off him, no longer smothered by the double dose of suppressants and patches, and my omega hums in approval.
