When Victor comes home at seven o’clock that night, I throw myself into his arms. “Where have you been,” I breathe against his chest, angry and relieved at once. “Whoa,” he says, laughing a little, settling his weight on his back foot to balance the weight of me against him. “Evelyn, are you all r
The house is finally quiet, most of the Betas gone and Burton packed away home. Bridgette left hours ago, and I still haven’t seen Rafe. I lean against the counter, mulling this over, as Victor pours me a glass of red wine and prepares a tumbler of whiskey for himself. Then, he pulls me close for a
“Oh calm down, brother,” Rafe’s voice says from the darkness, a sigh thick in his words. Victor’s growl cuts off, but he stays tense behind me as the figure climbs the stairs, coming into the light spilling through the living room window. When we see that it is indeed Rafe standing there, Victor l
“Daddddd!” Alvin shouts the next morning, bursting in through the door to our bedroom banging a toy drum as hard as he can. “Come on! It’s time for our concert!” Ian comes marching behind him, playing the kazoo as loud as his little boy lungs will let him, and I follow up the rear, banging two plas
I smile to myself then, pleased. But I turn when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Victor comes halfway down and then stoops to glare at us. “Seriously? A party? At six am?” “Just family,” I say innocently, turning and leaning against the counter. “What’s wrong with a family breakfast?” I give him
I have to admit, it’s really weird pulling up to the house where I grew up, considering that the last time I was here I left in a helicopter clutching my half-dead mate’s hand. I glance in the rearview window at my two boys, suddenly realizing that this house is probably full of strange memories for
“She would die,” Emma says, her eyes going wide as we move to the couch. “Please let her – it would make her so happy.” “Done,” I say, shrugging. “I’ll have Victor’s media people get in touch with her about it. Someone’s got to break it to the press – why not my bestie?” “Break what to the press?”
I go a little pale when I hear my mother’s words – not out of shock, but mostly out of guilt. Never, really, did I think of her sitting here alone in this house, missing him. The idea that I’ve kept him away from her for so long – and that she’s been pining for him – Instantly, I nod, trying to kee