All Chapters of The Pack's Emissary: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Havermouth, Present TimeHarry woke on their side with Jules curled around their back, snoring gently into their ear. They smiled, amused by the dominance of the position. Jules, tempered by age and experience, had entered their relationship uncertain, concerned by his aged body, inexperience, and cautious due to a lifetime hyper-aware of the pack’s disapproval regarding homosexuality. He had grown in confidence since their first time together, and it had been beautiful to see the man blossoming into love.This Jules had returned to Harry missing pieces of himself. His memory remained fragmented. But those holes also healed the wounds of Jules’ life. He didn’t know shame in loving Harry, he wasn’t afraid of other’s opinions. He also did not feel unworthy of Harry’s love in return and wasn’t afraid of being demanding and every bit of a werewolf alpha and seemed to have embraced that side of himself.Harry had loved Jules with an intensity of acceptance they had never before experienced

The Mouth on the Otherside of the River, Present TimeLyric woke and realized that Niarthen was not with her. The Mer’s version of a tent was a moss-lined nest with a stretch of dried and woven seaweed overhead. It was surprisingly very quick to erect and rolled into something the size of a sleeping bag. The moss insulated against the ground, and the seaweed protected the occupant from the morning dew, creating a snug little place to sleep. Usually a little too snug, with Niarthen’s big frame tucked around hers as the tents were not made for multiple occupants, but both Lyric and Niarthen turned the proximity to their advantage discovering just how many sexual positions they could take within the small enclosure.The sex normally sent Lyric into a deep sleep afterward, but even then she was always aware when Niarthen moved. And he did. He had not slept the full night through since leaving the island, rising to pace around the tent, a restless sentry during the night, returning with ha

Trayrock, Present Time“Sorry if I overstepped,” Cameron said to Aislen and Heath as the room emptied. He ran his hand through his hair. “It almost seemed like you guys wanted to start a fight, and with everyone well in their drinks, that didn’t seem like a good idea.”“It’s fine, you did great. It was really smart,” Aislen assured him, for although he had kept the query light, there was a wave of guilt and worry that accompanied it. “I wouldn’t have let it boil over,” she added though and tapped the side of her head. “I was ready to use my power to keep things calm. But I wanted the guy looking at us, and not at the reporters. I didn’t want him dragging them back to the Van Helsings for interrogation.”“We’re going to have to make sure they keep a lower profile,” Heath agreed.“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s in Rhonda or Patrick’s playlist, but we’ll try. Right,” Aislen turned to Lexie, picking up on the woman’s worry. “Go check on your friend. And ask her if she’s happy for us to send so

Trayrock, Present Time“Phew,” Aislen threw herself into the front seat of the car as the men piled in around her. “That got the adrenaline pumping. Now I’m starving.” On cue, her stomach growled loudly, and she grimaced, pressing her hand to it trying to still it’s churning.“Fucking hell,” Rhett laughed from the back seat. “Your stomach sounds like a horny alpha.”“Growing an entire person,” she reminded him.“At an accelerated rate,” Heath agreed. “We really need to keep on top of the food situation for Aislen. Our appetites are somewhat easier to manage - I’ve noticed that once a day is generally enough for me, and Talen needs even less, but Aislen is right – she’s pregnant. With human, and I am assuming werewolf pregnancies, it’s important that a pregnant woman get all the nutrients and vitamins that she needs, like folate, iron, and calcium…”“All of which can be found in blood,” Talen added soothingly. “So, we will ensure that Morgana feeds at least three times a day, and if an

Trayrock, Present TimeAs Talen eased open the sliding door onto the balcony, Rhett surreptitiously inspected the gunshot wound on his ribs. It was just a graze, but it had stung like a mother-fucker as he’d hauled the body up onto the balcony, and it had ruined his brand-new shirt, sticking it to his side with blood. He couldn’t tell if he was still bleeding, or whether the slick wetness under his fingers was just blood left on his skin from the initial wound. It smarted to touch the wound, so he imagined that it was still closing up.He poked his finger through the hole in his jacket. It might improve the look, he thought ruefully, if he got shot up a few more times. The store hadn’t exactly offered a wide range of clothing, and everything he’d chosen fit into the “basics” range. Basic dark or black jeans or slacks, basic dark or black tops and t-shirts, and the basic black denim jacket. None of it had any spice or attitude, and he didn’t have the accessories to add it.The bullet h