I’m scowling as I storm into the house, slamming the front door closed behind me. I feel a pang of guilt when I see Ian and Victor twitch awake on the couch, Ian’s eyes wide with surprise and Victor instantly on defense, ready to take on whatever threat came through the door. When he sees me, thou
“Is that so bad?” Victor asks, leaning forward to kiss my hair. “Closure, fine,” I respond, definitive. Then I look up at him. “But Victor, you know how sweet she is, and you know how manipulative he can be. I think that he picked her, specifically, because she’s someone he can control. And that i
Bridgette is standing in the doorway with a bag pressed tightly to her chest, Alvin’s hand held tightly in her own. Her lovely blond hair is golden in the backlit glow from the porch light. “Um,” she says, giving us all an awkward little smile. “Does anyone want some ice cream? Alvin and I made a…pi
“Bossy,” I murmur as I look towards the kitchen, where the boys are sitting on the table digging into the ice cream and Bridgette is taking a few tentative steps towards Rafe, his head lowered to look closely into her eyes. “Yes,” Victor agrees, running his nose against the soft skin behind my ear
Victor wakes the next morning with Evelyn curled in his arms, her head tucked neatly under his chin. He pulls her more tightly against him, lowering his face to get a good sniff of her still-damp hair, closing his eyes as he does. His mate gives a little mew of contentment in her sleep that makes hi
Ian grins at his dad as he climbs up to explore the cereal cabinet. “We covered all the bases,” he says. “Like good Alphas.” “Very good Alphas,” Victor confirms, putting a filter in the machine and starting to load it with coffee. “Listen, kid,” he begins, “I’m going to need your help today.” Ia
I wake at the sound of a drawer closing and the light click of ceramic on wood. I sniff the air and smile, opening my eyes to see a lovely cup of coffee just inches from my face. “Oohhh,” I say, pleased and sitting up. I smile up at Victor, standing next to the bed. “And to what do I owe this grea
“Yeah,” I sigh, handing the phone back to him. “She’s doing this to get at you.” He gives me a little derisive look, as if my methods for drawing this conclusion are ridiculous, but then he takes a second look at the images and shrugs a little. I smirk, pleased he sees my point. “Well?” I ask. “