“MAMAAAA!” I lurch to my feet out of a straight sleep when I hear my son’s voice calling to me. Edgar next to me shudders awake, though he manages to stay in bed. “What’s happening?” He murmurs, staring around bleerily. “They’re back,” I say, pulling a blanket around my shoulders and ducking out t
“She was!” I say, laughing as a Beta hands me a plate with eggs and toast. I murmur my thanks. “So by that,” Victor says, “you mean that you spent all night with Edgar and she hung out by herself, texting all her diva friends.” “One,” I say, pointing at him with my fork, “she didn’t have cell rece
Victor wakes with a start as the van pulls into the driveway, sucking in a deep breath. The boys, Alvin tucked in beside him and Ian stretched across his stomach, shift with the disturbance. “Are we home?” Ian asks, blearily blinking awake. “Yes, baby,” Evelyn says, peeling Ian off Victor and pull
“Excellent!” Willard says, pleased with the deal and sounding a little bit surprised at the ease with which it was completed. “I’ll do just that. You stay in touch now, my boy,” he says kindly, and then hangs up the phone. Victor sits back in his seat, wondering how he got so played. Usually, this
Victor’s car pulls along the gravel drive of the Walsh family home, a palatial estate in the British Georgian theme. The wheels of the car crunch to a stop and Victor’s Beta steps out first, surveying the scene and checking for threats. Seeing none, he signals Victor to come forward. Victor steps o
Walsh laughs at Victor, low and mocking. “You fool,” he says, shaking his head. “If you had any wits about you at all, you’d take the boys and get rid of her, send her away, anywhere but in your home. She’ll ruin your life.” Victor frowns at this, feeling anger rise within him. “Evelyn is an excell
“Vic-“ Amelia sputters out half of his name as Victor strides into the bedroom, grabs her by the arm, and slams her against the wall. “What did you do, Amelia,” he yells, his voice thick with wrath. “Victor – I – “ Amelias eyes scan frantically over Victor’s face, his body, sensing – correctly – t
“And,” she continues. “That would leave my sons free to inherit your pack. Like you promised.” Her last words are a whisper. For a moment, Victor looks down at his mate, taking in the sadness on her face, her long lashes, her beautiful, plump lips… With a snarl, Victor rips his arm from her hand a