Chapter Thirteen

Marcus

Thorn and Baxter don't talk to me much on the drive home. Neither does Eve, though that's probably more to keep her mouth shut and her stomach contents in her stomach more than anything else.

It's not my fault , I keep telling myself. My packmates needed to know the risk Eve was facing. So did she.

But I can tell Doctor Perez's words rattled her.

She crashes almost as soon as we get home, sequestering herself to her nest. I can tell how much my packmates want to join her—god, I know I want to join her—but Baxter summons us all downstairs.

"Everything okay?" Riley asks, closing the study door behind us.

Baxter stands at his desk, leaning against the wooden edge. "Just heard back from our lawyers." We all hold our breaths until he says, "It's good news. The judge is happy with Eve's progress. At this rate, we're well on track to satisfying our win conditions."

That's right. So long as the pup stays healthy, and Eve stays healthy, our victory over Carson Pack will be set in stone.

I want to be relieved, but the feeling doesn't come—sensing Baxter isn't finished talking.

He sighs. "The flip side, of course, is that if anything goes wrong, we'll still be liable."

"Liable," Red growls, "what does that mean?"

"It means if any of those complications the doctor mentioned actually happen, Carson will have grounds to appeal."

I scowl. "That's not fair. Plenty of omegas face complications in pregnancy—so much of it is out of our control, no matter how well we take care of her."

Baxter quirks his brow at me. "You think Carson will play fair?"

I go quiet, seething inwardly. None of this is new information, of course, but now that all the possible complications are at the forefront of our minds—thanks in no small part to yours truly—it's sure to put a real strain on the next six months. Not to mention labor.

God, labor. I haven't even let myself think of that yet.

"Well." Thorn stares dead at me. "Looks like you got what you wanted."

I pull back. "What I wanted?"

"The more paranoid we are, the more cautious we'll be."

"I don't want you to be paranoid," I argue.

"Could've fooled me—getting in our ear about all the added risks."

"Would you rather you didn't know?"

"I'd rather you keep your concerns far away from our omega. She's under enough pressure as it is."

Instantly, I flash back to last night. Seeing her nest like that, so high-strung, her inner omega spiraling … did I really do that?

"You're asking him to lie to her," Riley accuses.

"Imagine that," he returns, pointedly.

When Riley recoils—a rare glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes—the air changes. Instinctively, I shift closer to her. Even Red growls as if to say, Not cool, man.

"Thorn," Baxter says, coolly, "apologize."

There's no hesitation, only a flash of self-awareness, as Thorn withdraws. "Sorry. Not my business."

Even as he speaks the words, I can tell he doesn't buy them. Riley's family is hers to deal with, but her decision will impact the pack. That much, our head alpha and second-in-command have a right to know.

Riley nods. "You're not wrong. At this point I'm not sure if I'm lying to Eve for her benefit, or mine." She shrugs. "Guess I won't know until I make a decision."

"We'll support you either way," I remind her. She smiles at me.

Baxter dismisses us, only Thorn hanging behind—top secret head alpha/second-in-command stuff, I guess.

"My stomach is trying to eat itself," Red groans. "Marc, can you make lunch early?"

"I could," I tell him, " or , I could sit right here—" I take a spot at the kitchen bench, "—and watch you meal prep."

He looks like he's about to complain, but then Riley shoots him a look, and he realizes what I'm asking.

"You trust me to meal prep?"

"I've taught you all I can." I pause. "About chopping meat and vegetables."

He clasps his hands together. "Okay. Yeah. Okay! Let's do this."

Under my instruction, he gets to work, slicing and dicing and even wiping things down after himself. Those crimson eyes are laser focused.

Riley takes a seat next to me. "He actually looks like he knows what he's doing in there."

"I heard that," Red calls.

We watch him a while longer. Or I do—Riley's too busy checking her phone. I try not to sneak a peek, knowing it's not my place, but at the same time … sensing she wants to talk about it.

"They send anything else?" I ask cautiously. "Your parents, I mean."

Riley puts her phone down. "No. Nothing."

"Guess they're giving you space."

She smiles, but there's something sour in her scent. "I know. It's very not like them."

I quirk a brow, and she laughs.

"If you don't count the last six years, obviously. When they were still, you know, my parents, I barely had any room to breathe. I was meant to be their successor—the one kid who stuck around to keep the family business alive." She shrugs. "They had a lot riding on me."

Something about her tone of voice, tinged with regret, makes me squeeze her hand. "You're not the one who let them down."

"Will I be, though?" She looks at me. "If I deprive them of their grandpup? Or, worse—will I be letting down our pup?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said it yourself. A pup needs their village. A full family."

I sigh, wanting to kick myself. "Our pup already has a full family. Grandparents would be another layer to that, sure, but not if it's at your expense."

"Or yours, Marc."

Our heads snap up to Red, drying his hands on a tea towel. He nods at me. "I think you should tell her what you told me."

I try not to groan. Not now, Red. I don't want to make this about me.

Riley cocks her head. "Tell me what?"

At my resistance, Red eyes me meaningfully. I'm not getting out of this one.

"Alright." I huff. "I, uh, was actually thinking of reaching out to my parents. See how they're doing, let them know the good news. I'm not sure if they'd even want to hear from me, but I know they're proud, and stubborn, and would never make the first move. If I'm the one to extend the olive branch—"

"You should."

I blink at Riley, at her simple tone. "I should?"

"Don't get me wrong," she says, "I'm not a fan of your family pack. In the slightest. Any world where they're in our lives again would come with strict terms and conditions, for Eve's sake as much as yours. But obviously this is something that's important to you, and I want you to have that." She steels. "If your parents are man enough to take it."

She's the one squeezing my hand now. Tears spring to my eyes, taken aback by the sudden weight off my shoulders.

Then Red scoffs. "‘Man enough'?"

Riley rolls her eyes. "Shut up."

"Never thought I'd hear you say those words."

"Manly is a state of mind, jackass."

"You should put that on a t-shirt."

I laugh, grateful for my packmates, and the way they make me feel safe, and at home, no matter what.

Grateful for my family.