Parent Trap: Werewolf Edition is in full swing. Let's see how Holly handles it.
My mind couldn’t grasp what happened last night. Between the nightmare of Nigel turning into Alex, my freak out, that voice saying “a life for a life,” Kira taking control, and then waking up naked in Alex’s lap, it was overwhelming. I saw the picture of us on his nightstand, and that kiss—don’t get me started on that kiss—then he kissed me again before leaving my hotel room. I don’t think there’s enough coffee to process all of this. Thankfully, I would have some quiet time today working at the farm. That will give me some breathing room, and as long as Kira doesn’t get on my nerves, I’ll be able to think straight and plan how to deal with all of this. It would be just Samuel and me working around the farm. With everything in probate, all the employees, werewolves and humans, have been put on a leave of absence. I sure can’t afford to pay people to work the farm. I won’t ask Logan to do it for me. Until I can sell the farm, it would be a lot of legal hassle and paperwork to let Lo
I had to hand it to our boys. They had played us, more so Holly, perfectly. I couldn’t complain about their plans. I was one hundred percent behind Samuel and Tristan working together to get Holly and me together. It was honestly the best outcome for our situation. We could’ve had an issue with our boys being against us being together. It would have been impossible to be with Holly if her son was against it. Mate bond be damned, Holly wouldn’t have entertained my existence if her son said he didn’t like me. I had never had to herd cattle, but I liked it. I liked it even more that I was working alongside Holly. It felt right. Any time I was with Holly, it felt right. But this was up there. Working together on the farm… it felt like where we were supposed to be. I had always felt at home on a ranch riding a horse, with my dream of having a rodeo that included working with other animals like bulls—not the complacent kind like the Boland herd—but still, being there felt like fate. While
I hated being emotional—it was never who I was meant to be. I might have burst into tears more easily as a child, but that was long ago. The day my parents died, I built walls around my heart, shuttering away anything that resembled vulnerability. Aunt Donna once told me that I must have shed a lifetime’s worth of tears in the wake of that tragedy, and I believed her until Nigel’s death shattered that belief. After losing him, the tears came pouring out for the first time in years. I had cried for each miscarriage, but not like this. I mourned them in a muted way, feeling shattered inside yet unable to let more than a tear or two out. There was a deep sadness for the lives that could have been but remained unfulfilled. Yet here I was, crying—again—in front of Alex, a humiliation that both angered and terrified me. The first two moments of weakness felt justified; they were driven by grief over losing Nigel and the brutal acknowledgment that no amount of wishing could alter our shar
I was flabbergasted by what happened in the pasture. I knew the conversation would be heavy, but I hadn’t expected Holly to break down crying. It was a deeply emotional subject, and I told her I love her this soon to reassure her that her inability to have children doesn’t change my feelings. I’ve waited years to be with her, and we already have two boys who are more than enough for me. While the thought of having a child together was interesting, it’s not crucial to our future. It was always about us and our boys when I imagined what lay ahead. I didn’t expect her to respond or say she loved me—my heart might’ve stopped! What shocked me most was that after that emotional moment, it was Holly who kissed me first. Let me repeat that for the people speed reading. Holly Boland KISSED ME! HOLLY BOLAND KISSED ME, ALEX WHITLAND! Let that sink in. I know it’s still sinking in for me, and we’re already back at the barn, about to sit down and enjoy the lunch my mom packed us. I’d played
What I wouldn’t give for a long, hot, soothing bath right now. The thought of warm water enveloping me, with fragrant steam wrapping around me like a comforting embrace, was almost tantalizing. I could picture myself sinking into a deep tub, letting the day’s stress melt away. However, disappointment washed over me when I remembered that my hotel room only had a shower, robbing me of that tranquil escape. Exhaustion from farm chores was compounded by emotions I thought I had tucked away since Nigel passed. I hoped today would allow for quiet reflection on my budding relationship with Alex. Wow, I really had come a long way if I was starting to think of it as a relationship. Instead, I had an emotional breakdown in his arms, leading to an unexpected kiss that stirred feelings I hadn’t anticipated. Returning to the boys was meant to lighten my mood, but learning that Samuel and Tristan had arrived in the house filled with memories of Nigel dampened my spirits. Now, I faced the worry
Tristan practically vibrated with excitement in the passenger seat, his smirk stretching wider by the second. I braced myself. “So,” he started, dragging out the word. “You and Holly, huh?” I kept my eyes on the road. “What about me and Holly?” He scoffed. “Oh, come on, Dad. Samuel and I totally set you two up. And might I add—Operation Parent Trap: Werewolf Edition was a huge success.” I shook my head. “That’s what you’re calling it?” “Yup. And it worked. You walked away with a date. A real, actual date. On Friday. That’s four days from now, in case you forgot.” I smirked. “I can count, thanks.” Tristan leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “So… you love her.” I sighed. “I always loved Holly.” His smirk deepened. “Then you know what comes next.” I frowned. “What are you getting at?” “The new moon,” he cut in as if I was a slow student missing an easy answer. “That’s when you and Holly are supposed to complete your bond.” I gripped the steering wheel a little t
I hung up the phone, my heart racing as Alex’s voice echoed in my mind, filled with concern. It felt good to be cared for, but also unsettling—especially after being alone since Nigel. The memory of him tugged at me, but I fought it back, focusing on the warm glow of the lamps in the hallway of Davis and Loretta’s home. Charles and Sybille were in the living room, sorting through boxes after the couple’s recent passing. I could hear their muffled voices, but every glance at those boxes tightened my throat. I wasn’t ready to face the objects that reminded me of the couple who had taken me in, or worse, memories of Nigel. So, while they packed, I lingered in the hallway, pretending to make calls. I had updated Alex about the break-in, but deep down, I knew I was hiding. I wasn’t ready to sift through the memories. Not yet. Sybille’s voice drifted over from the living room. “Holly? Everything alright?” I forced a smile and stepped into the doorway. Charles was lifting photo albums wh
The drive to the Bloodmoon Pack House, nestled in the heart of Mount Hood Village, always took my breath away. In August, its wood and stone accents glowed warmly under the summer sun, surrounded by bright wildflowers and the scent of pine. The sprawling house resembled a luxury lodge, with wide balconies and large windows reflecting the evening sky. Before I could park, Aurelia stepped onto the stone steps, her red hair shining in the sunlight and her green eyes sparkling as she spotted us. How did she know we were coming? Did Tristan text her? “Alex! Tristan!” she called, waving us over. Tristan practically bolted out of the car, his usual mix of excitement and energy on full display. I followed at a slower pace, grinning as Logan appeared behind Aurelia. As Logan stepped outside, despite their twelve-year relationship, their stark differences still caught me off guard. Logan was her complete opposite in stature—short, with a stocky build. His wild brown hair and beard made him
I… I have a wolf. I, Alexander Michael Whitland, the HUMAN among werewolves, have a WOLF! My mind was blown at the thought of being anyone’s mate, let alone Holly’s second chance, and now this. Everything about last night still feels surreal, from the marking, seeing Nigel, to him giving me Leo because the Goddess lost a BET, and shifting for the first time. My brain is still overloaded.‘You’re the excitable sort still, I see.’ Leo commented as Holly and I returned to the farm after packing camp.‘Oh, come on, dude. You barely knew me before you died. I’ve totally grown up since then. You’re in my head; you have access to my memories. You should know I’m not the same boy that had a crush on your mate,’ I huffed.‘Uh-huh. I don’t know how much has changed from what I’ve absorbed from your memories. You dipped your dick in crazy and lucked out to get a good kid out of the deal.' He snorted.'I’ll give you credit, though. You’ve put in the work to train hard and to raise your boy. You r
I gasped as reality slammed back into me. The weight of my body pressed into the earth, and Alex on top of me, his skin damp with sweat against mine. His breath was hot and ragged against my throat, his chest rising and falling in uneven shudders. We were back. The air was thick with the scent of earth, pine, and sex. The cool night breeze contrasted with the burning intensity inside me, but I barely noticed. I could still feel the bond between us—woven into our very beings, humming beneath our skin, connecting us in an ancient, irrevocable way. I sensed the swirl of emotions stirring in Alex’s mind through our bond. Alex groaned, his forehead pressing against mine as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Holy shit.” His voice was hoarse, rough from what we’d just done. I swallowed hard, my arms still wrapped around him, clinging to him as if letting go would break the spell. Our mating had been anything but ordinary. What we’d just done wasn’t ordinary, even with Alex being human. It wa
Holly’s lips were fire against mine, burning away every hesitation, every lingering doubt. I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t fragile. Not here, not with her. None of the chaos that’s happened recently mattered. Tonight wasn’t about any of that. Tonight was about us coming together and making this official. Or at least official in the eyes of the supernatural community Her body pressed against mine, soft curves molding against me, igniting something primal, something I’d kept buried for too long. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling, teeth grazing, breathy little sounds escaping her lips between each hungry meeting of our mouths. I wanted to hear more of those sounds. I shifted, rolling her beneath me, the thin sleeping bag doing little to shield us from the cool bite of the earth beneath it. The rough texture of dirt and grass pressed against my forearms, grounding me in this moment, this night, this woman. Holly’s hands slid beneath my shirt, her nails dragging lightly along my stomach, se
The evening air carried a whisper of cool and crisp autumn against my skin as I fastened the leather straps on my saddle. The scent of pine and earth wrapped around me, mingling with summer’s faint, lingering musk. As the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, the sky stretched wide, painted in gold, orange, and deep purple streaks. We had enough time to reach our campsite before nightfall, where we’d picnic under the new moon. Tonight, everything would change. ‘Stop overthinking,’ Kira’s voice purred through my mind, firm but affectionate. ‘It’s happening. It’s always been meant to happen.’ I exhaled slowly, steadying my hands against the saddle horn. Had it? It had only been a little over two weeks since the fight—two weeks since Benton was finally dead. Since the war he had waged against me, my pack and my family had come to a brutal, bloody end. But the fight wasn’t over. Brendán O’Brion was still out there. And we were no closer to knowing who had sent Benton after me. I cle
I hate feeling useless. And you don’t get more useless than being laid up in a hospital bed for TWO fucking weeks. I had to hear secondhand about all the shit that’s gone down since I was injured. Benton is dead. Holly indirectly killed the fucknugget when interrogating him. Bitch folded like a piece of paper when he realized my wildflower was deadly serious about peeling his skin like an app. My mate is hard fucking core. He gave up the name of the fucker who put me in the hospital, the sadistic son of a bitch that would’ve killed my boys. Brendán O’Brion. It’s too bad that was the only name he gave before he went up in flames. I mean that, literally. The asswipe had these magically infused tattoos intended to protect him, but apparently, whoever did the spell-casting neglected to mention it also gave them backdoor control to silence him if necessary. They didn’t care that he gave up the assassin’s name, but his tattoos burst into flames when he was about to tell us who was
Oh, I was more than ready to beat answers out of Benton. But why had Finn and Logan called me in? They could make that pissant talk, especially if Logan let Jericho out. I changed into Alison’s training gear—I wasn’t ruining her fancy clothes with Benton’s filthy blood. After ensuring Samuel and Tristan were safe with Alison and Colby, I headed to the cells with John and Clarence. The last time I was here, Claire was the only prisoner. Now, the twenty-five-cell prison was filled. I was shocked so many survived the two-front battle. I glanced at the hunters and werewolves in their Bloodmoon red jumpsuits as we walked. They all looked broken, haunted. Logan and Finn had already worked them over, if I had to guess. Some sat huddled on their cots, rocking, muttering about monsters. Whatever they’d seen had shattered them. “What happened to the ones incoherently whimpering about various monsters?” I asked. John slowed and glanced at one of the pathetic masses, who looked like he needed a
I never want to experience that again. I broke when Nigel died. I don’t know if I was fully reassembled when I met Alex again. I’d only just started to feel whole again since accepting this new fate. To hear that Alex was hospitalized while protecting our boys nearly broke me. It’s a damn good thing he’s still alive. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he died. I don’t know if Samuel and Tristan would be enough to keep me and Kira together. I don’t know if the boys would be sufficient to keep me from going feral or just straight-up dying. We weren’t mated yet, but I felt it in my bones. If Alex hadn’t survived, I might not have either. If I’d managed to live through losing yet another mate in battle, I knew I’d go feral. I’d hunt down that masked fucker who took Alex from me to the ends of the earth. I wouldn’t stop till I had snapped his fucking neck. Even if it meant I would die, too. I’d leave the boys in the care of people I could trust, and I’d hunt that bastard till one of
Pain. A deep, dragging ache coiled through my chest, sharp and unrelenting. It pulsed with every shallow breath, reminding me with each dull throb that I was still here. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. An antiseptic smell filled my nose—sharp, sterile, and far too familiar—Bloodmoon’s hospital. I've been here my share after training injuries, even woke up here once or twice after getting knocked out in a sparing fight. I wasn’t dead. Barely. Fragments of memory clawed their way to the surface, jagged and disjointed. The boys voices—urgent, terrified. A figure in the shadows. The masked man was lunging toward me. The deafening crack of a gunshot. Then, nothing. A presence near the bed made me shift slightly, and immediately, pain flared deep and raw beneath the bandages wrapped tight across my chest. A hiss escaped through my teeth. “Yeah, don’t do that,” a familiar voice muttered. I turned my head, grimacing at the effort, every mov
Benton grinned up at me, blood smeared across his lips like some twisted badge of honor. He thought this was a game. This mother fucker thought that he could get away with threatening my pack and family. He thought wrong. I’d ensure he paid for his arrogance, preferably with his life. He moved first, twisting his body in an attempt to throw me off before he even got to his feet. I didn’t let him. I already knew what he was going to do. The second his weight shifted, I countered, adjusting with the precision of instinct, my body reacting before my mind could fully register it. I had seen moves like his before—I had learned, memorized, and mastered them. Benton was a skilled fighter, but so was I. And unlike him, I didn’t fight for sport. I fought to protect. He managed to twist to the side, trying to escape my hold. I let him think it was working. Then, I struck just as he shifted his weight to push off the ground. I moved with him, using his momentum against him as I slammed my elbo