Over the last four days, as much as it irritated and almost pained me to get along and even be nice to Marco, I also felt a sense of smug amusement. Any time he was surprised but receptive to my new attitude, I’d smile on the inside knowing I was getting closer to my goal, that as long as I played it right and remained patient, then hopefully he would he’d agree to free my beta and guard. Being nice, kind, agreeable and supportive always came naturally to me, but only when it was toward someone deserving of it, so with Marco, I found it a struggle. I’d have to bite my tongue every time I’d see his men casually strolling around with not much to do, taking it easy whilst my people were working to the bone. Any time he ridiculed the way my father used to run the pack, or if he was smug, brash and selfish, I’d try to contain myself from snapping at him. But at least now we were getting along better, my anxiety of walking alone outside amongst his pack wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been.
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