Nothing ruins a shower fantasy faster than your kid letting themselves into your bathroom even worse when they bring bad news.
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
It had been two days since Samuel and I left our hotel to stay at the main house on the farm. It’s been weird, to say the least, staying in Davis and Loretta’s home. Charles and Sybille had thankfully already packed up their master bedroom, so it felt less awkward sleeping in there. I felt the worst for Samuel, even if he volunteered for it. He was staying in Nigel’s bedroom. Samuel told me being around his dad’s old things made him feel more real, letting Samuel feel closer to Nigel in a way my stories never could. I’ve kept myself busy working around the farm and texting with Alex. We’ve talked about the break-in, of course, but it hasn’t been the primary focus of our messages. I think Alex realized bringing it up even to discuss the updates from the local police or Silvercloud just put me in a foul mood. I am a person of action. All the human red tape did nothing but annoy me. Knowing Silvercloud and Persephone had located my laptop, the fact it was on the move, so the loca
As I stepped out of the barn on Christian Ranch, the crisp morning air was filled with the scent of fresh hay, and my mind was tangled with thoughts of Holly. It had been two days since we last met at Boland Farm, where we worked side by side, our boys playing nearby. Holly had shared something that weighed heavily on her: she couldn’t have more children. I felt her tension and, at that moment, pulled her into my lap, offering comfort as she cried. She kissed me—a soft, desperate touch—before agreeing to a date. Just an hour later, Tristan interrupted my thoughts about her to reveal that Samuel’s hotel room had been broken into. Holly confirmed that her laptop was stolen, a targeted theft. Two days later, despite the best efforts of Bloodmoon’s trackers and Silvercloud’s tech, the thief remained elusive, always slipping away just ahead of the hunt. I pulled my phone from my pocket and flicked on the screen. Holly’s contact name, Wildflower, sat at the top of my messages. I scrolle
The second I stepped through Sadria’s front door, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My entire body felt like it had been scrubbed, oiled, and kneaded within an inch of its life. I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed… ever. Today was different from what I used to, but I enjoyed it. Well, I enjoyed most of it. Having so many people giving their opinions on what I bought was annoying. It was also irritating to find out they’d been texting Alex while we were at the sap, including sending him pics. “Well, I, for one, feel amazing,” Sybille declared, stretching her arms overhead as she breezed past me, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. “That hot stone massage was divine.” Sadria hummed in agreement, setting her bags down next to the stairs. “I’d forgotten how much I needed a good spa day.” I dropped my bag unceremoniously near the entryway, rolling my shoulders. “I wouldn’t say needed.” Alison scoffed, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh, please. You spent the first
The filly was making slow, steady progress as I moved carefully, wary of spooking her. She watched me, eyes filled with caution. Beautiful and strong, she held onto her wildness, requiring patience to earn her trust. As the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the ranch, the filly snorted and tested me, taking a hesitant step closer. I thought, ‘Good girl,’ silently encouraging her. At that moment, I lost track of the world beyond the pen and focused solely on our silent, patient connection. Then I felt it—a presence watching me. I turned, and there was Holly, leaning against the fence with her arms crossed, her calm expression unreadable. My stomach flipped, thrilled to see her but also worried why she was here so suddenly. I knew she had been out with her friends all day, but here she was, unexpected and magnetic. I stepped back to give the filly space, then approached the fence where Holly stood. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, brushing dust from my hands. My g
Maybe it was the mate bond or the realization that Nigel knew about Alex or that after a decade of solitude, I yearned for someone's touch. Whatever the reason, I moved closer to Alex and kissed him. His arms wrapped around me, deepening the kiss until the squishing sounds of our wet clothes interrupted us. I pulled back, shivering from both the cold and the kiss. I could handle the chill, but Alex couldn’t. Looking around, I decided we should head to the hayloft. There might be something to help us dry off, or we could use the dry hay to undress and let our clothes dry. I took his hand and led him toward the ladder. ‘And have some fun?’ Kira asked. ‘Not ruling it out, but not confirming.’ I said. I wasn’t sure how willing I was to admit that being up in the hayloft naked with Alex was enticing and that parts of me that had been dormant for years were perking up at the thought. I wanted to blame the cold clothes for why my nipples were as hard as diamonds under my cotton bra.
Death by edging. I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but it sure the fuck felt like a possibility. No fantasy I ever dreamed of being with Holly could hold a candle to reality. Holly was going to be the death of me, and even if I don’t get to cum before I meet that end, I could say I would die with a smile. I would die a happy man because Holly Boland, the star of every fantasy I’ve had since I was sixteen, TIED me up in the hayloft and gave me the most mind-blowing blow job without ever blowing my load. And now? Oh fuck, now she was naked and riding my cock like she was made for it. I suppose she was since we are mates. Or maybe it’s more that I was made for her. No, it’s both. We were made for each other. I don’t care which it is. All I cares about was that Holly had let me in. Maybe not completely in her heart, but I was currently balls deep in her slick heat, wanting for nothing except to be untied so I could touch this woman in all the ways I’d dreamed. As she leaned over me,
To all my incredible readers, Thank you for being part of this journey. From the moment Alpha Logan was written to the final chapters of Her Second Chance Mate, it has been an unforgettable ride. This 12-novel, 9-short-story series has taken us across the world, showing that love and family come in many forms. No matter race, gender, or sexuality, everyone deserves love, a place to belong, and the freedom to define what family means to them. Writing the Bloodmoon and Incubi series has been a labor of love over the past four years. Somehow, it feels both longer and shorter since I first started. These characters, their struggles, their victories, and their love stories have become a part of me—and I hope they’ve become a part of you too. While this generation of stories has reached its conclusion, my writing journey is far from over. A next generation lingers in the back of my mind, waiting for the right time to take shape. But for now, I’m stepping away from the supernatural a
I took a deep breath and tried to remebrr whag i had written down. “Holly… if you’d told me years ago that every twist, every wrong turn, every moment I thought was leading me nowhere was leading me straight to you—I don’t think I would’ve believed it.” A soft smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “But standing here now, looking at you, I know that every detour, every heartbreak, and struggle brought me here. To you. To us. And I wouldn’t change a single step of that journey because every single one led me home.” I swallowed hard, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I love you not just in the big, obvious ways but in all the small ones. In the way, you stand strong even when you’re exhausted. In the way, you let the boys win just enough times to keep their confidence up but still remind them who the boss is. In the way you look at me like I’m worth something more than I ever believed I could be.” My voice wavered slightly, but I kept going. “I promise to walk beside you wherever
I woke before dawn, the soft glow of morning stretching across the horizon outside my window. The air smelled of fresh-cut grass and damp earth, grounding me as I sat up, rubbing a hand over my face. Today was the day. Today, my last boyhood fantasy about Holly was coming true. ‘You nervous?’ Leo’s voice slipped into my mind, steady as ever. Three years later I was still getting used to him. Having a wolf spirit tethered to me when I wasn’t born a werewolf was an adjustment, to say the least. Gifted to me by Nigel the night Holly and I marked each other, Leo wasn’t just some supernatural extension of myself—he was a reminder of everything that had come before—a reminder of the man Holly had loved first and the one she had chosen now. ‘I'm not nervous,’ I answered silently. ‘I'm just… letting it all sink in.’ Leo let out a low huff. ‘You’re lying to yourself. You want this more than you’ll admit.’ I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. Leo wasn’t wrong. To the supernatural world
Alex’s hand found mine as the noise of greetings faded into the background. His warm, calloused fingers provided reassurance amid the chaos. I turned to him, noticing his softened expression contrasting with the bustle. Rather than being overwhelmed, he radiated a quiet contentment that comforted me. At that moment, it felt just like the two of us, surrounded by the noise yet wrapped in our own calm. “Come with me,” he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear. I didn’t question it, feeling a mix of anticipation and reassurance. With a final glance at our boys—Samuel expertly engaging with his Folsom cousins while Tristan animatedly introduced the D’Amore quadruplets—I could sense that new friendships were about to blossom. The excitement in the air was palpable, and I did not doubt that their spirited energy would lead to endless plotting on how to push their limits tonight. With a quiet sigh, I allowed Alex to lead me away from the bustling crowd, trusting that our boys wer
Two years. It didn’t seem possible that so much time had passed, yet here I was, standing beneath the glow of the arena lights, watching as Alex’s dream unfolded before me. Whitland Rodeo was no longer just a hope, a distant goal we whispered about late at night when exhaustion threatened to steal our resolve. It was real—alive, bustling with excited voices, the scent of fresh hay and leather thick in the air, and the rhythmic hum of country music blending with the distant sound of hooves against packed dirt. I squeezed Alex’s hand, feeling the rough callouses that had formed from endless days of labor. “You did it.” My voice was quiet, meant for only him, but the way his fingers tightened around mine told me he heard every ounce of emotion in those three simple words. He let out a long breath, which I knew had been held for too long. “We did it, Wildflower.” His eyes swept over the scene before us—the grandstands filled with people, the livestock pens lined neatly, the banners pro
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. Yo
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