The Luna and her Quadruplet Pups by Jane Above Story

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,

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

they hear. The last thing one should ever do is assume kids aren’t listening

on our door.” Linda replies, trying

the life I left behind. That same fate would await me if Ethan ever found out l’m alive. I can’t go

find out, Linda. He’ll take my babies, he’ll

listen to me.” My friend insists. “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

cheeks, I nod in agreement. It’s just in time. At that moment my driver 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 from

Riley as close as possible and

predicted, my young 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

spins around on the porch, performing effortless pirouettes and leaps to her brother’s tune, “Mommy look at me!” Clearly her ballet classes are paying off, though | imagine her dance instructor wouldn’t approve of the ribbets and oinks she’s incorporating into the

son, Ryder, is busy conducting them both, standing in the middle of the porch steps and waving his hands like a composer. Every now

but my pups are so precocious I have no doubt they’re improvising. Before long Linda and I have collapsed in a

Ryder, Parker and Riley give me more joy than ! ever dreamed was possible. They’re the greatest gift I’ve ever received and if it weren’t for

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

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