I am less happy a few hours later when I wake up quite stiff after my night on the forest floor.“Ooof,” I groan, sitting up and stretching out my stiff muscles. “That’s it,” I declare to the men in my life, who each blink awake next to me. “I’ve had enough of the forest. I need to go home, where th
The ride home passes slowly, probably because I am distracted with all my thoughts. The forest was stressful in its own way – we had to do hard work uncovering and facing our deepest doubts, learning what we are to each other. But in many ways it had been a reprieve. Lots of people, I think, would
I know, I reply, grateful for him and his assurance. We’ll just take it one thing at a time.Victor gives me a wink and then turns his attention back to his Beta and the road before us. I pull Ian a little closer to me, giving him a hug, and looking back out the window, getting my intentions in orde
Before me, surrounded by what looks like a dozen empty pizza boxes and at least six drained bottles of whiskey, Rafe is dead asleep on his belly, spread across my living room rug. “Oh my god,” Alvin whispers eagerly, his hands pressed to his mouth. “Is he dead?”“No he’s not dead,” I scold, giving
“I thought you were dead, Victor,” Rafe insists, rolling onto his side to glare at his Alpha. “There was no word from you – that Beta reported that you ran out of food –““And so what,” Victor scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. I smile to see him do it, admiring the way it makes the muscles i
Victor is unfortunately wrapped in a towel, all finished by the time I get to the bedroom. I give him a pout and he chuckles at me. “Too slow,” he smirks. I move towards him, holding out my arms, but he dodges away from me. “No!” he cries out. “You’re still all forest-y – I just got clean –““Rude!
I kept busy as well, contacting the boys’ tutor to get them restarted with their lessons, calling my mother and Emma and Delia to let them know I’m safe. I also contacted Bridgette, but didn’t hear back from her. I gnaw my bottom lip, worried, as I think about Bridgette now, even though I’m wrapped
“Wait, Evelyn,” he stutters. “Why? You worked so hard –““I know,” I confirm, nodding. “And you’ve done so many great things in your work as a therapist –““It’s true,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “I did manage to use my therapy practice to break up Victor Kensington and Amelia Jones, which I think