Chapter 8 The Woman

Jane

“She was so perfect.” | moan, taking a sip of wine while Linda listens sympathetically. “I wanted to run away with her then and there.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t.” My friend advises. We’re out on her front porch, enjoying a late afternoon cocktail and discussing the shocking events of the day. “It was risky enough just spending time with her. If you took her, Ethan would hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

“I’m going to have to figure out a way to take her eventually. She belongs with me, with her siblings.” | insist, feeling positively overwhelmed after everything that’s happened over the last few days.

“We’ll figure it out.” Linda assures me. “For now we should just be thankful he didn’t figure out you’re alive.”

“What if he did?” I ask anxiously.

“Honey, you have to trust the death certificate the coroner forged for us was enough.” Linda reminds me, “We covered our bases. You’re safe.”

“There’s no such thing as safe when it comes to alphas.” || remind her. “That kind of power … it knows no limits. Besides, it’s not only that, it’s Paisley… she knew what I look like, she told me I look like her Mommy.” As much as hearing the precious creature say those words tugged at my heartstrings,

to her father. “How do we know she didn’t tell Ethan what she

tend to parrot everything they hear. The last thing one should ever do is assume kids aren’t listening or capable of understanding conversations – especially my children, who are much too smart

our door.” Linda replies, trying to comfort

I left behind.

can’t find out, Linda. He’ll take my

much more than you ever were

pulls up, delivering my pups from the daycare center I booked for our time in the city. The back door of the sleek SUV opens, and one by one my pups are released

and showering them with kisses.

he made up with his teacher today, spouting lyrics about a “frog on a log in a bog, who went for a jog but got lost in the smog and then met a hog –

her ballet classes are paying off, though | imagine her dance instructor wouldn’t approve of the ribbets and oinks she’s incorporating into

his hands like a composer. Every now and then he calls out an instruction to his siblings, encouraging

but my pups are so precocious I have no doubt they’re improvising. Before long Linda and I have collapsed in a puddle of laughter, the pups climbing on top of us in a giggling dog pile. I squeeze them tightly, silently thanking the Goddess for

forget my young family is incomplete. Ryder, Parker and Riley give me more joy than ! ever dreamed was possible. They’re the

heart desired. Of course today was a stark reminder that one piece of my heart is still missing,

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