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,

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

children tend to parrot everything they hear. The last thing one should ever do is assume kids aren’t listening or capable of understanding conversations –

banging on our door.” Linda replies, trying to

of soothing me, her words evoke a thousand terrible possibilities. The image of Ethan crashing into Linda’s home in a fit of rage melds with my nightmarish memories, resurrecting ghosts of the life I left behind. That same fate would await me if Ethan

my eyes, “He can’t find out, Linda. He’ll take my babies, he’ll make me

much more than

our time in the city. The back door of the sleek SUV opens, and one by one my pups are released

as close as possible and showering them with kisses. “Oh, I missed you

on my distress immediately, each child trying their best to soothe my overwrought nerves. Parker climbs into my lap and begins singing a silly song he made up with his teacher today, spouting lyrics about a “frog on a log in a bog,

ballet classes are paying off, though | imagine her dance instructor wouldn’t approve of the ribbets

porch steps and waving his hands like a composer. Every now and then

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

than ! ever dreamed was possible. They’re the greatest gift I’ve ever received and if it weren’t for Paisley’s absence,

that one piece of my heart is still missing, and I’m more determined than ever to get

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