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,

“How do we know

better than anyone how children tend to parrot everything they hear. The last thing one should

already be banging on our door.” Linda replies, trying to comfort me. “I’m sure he doesn’t

rage melds with my nightmarish memories, resurrecting ghosts of the life I left behind. That same fate would await me

Linda. He’ll take my babies, he’ll

“You aren’t the same woman you were back then. You are so much more than you ever were or wanted to be. Ethan only has power over

pups from the daycare center I booked for our time in the city. The back

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

pups pick up 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, who went for a jog but got lost

effortless pirouettes and leaps to her brother’s tune, “Mommy look at me!” Clearly her ballet classes are paying off, though |

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

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

Ryder, Parker and Riley give me more joy than ! ever dreamed was possible. They’re the

a stark reminder that one piece of my heart is still missing, and I’m more determined than

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