WAYLENThe room was too quiet. The one advantage I had was their inability to read my mind. I stood before the council, hands crossed at my crotch. The governor was at the head of the table, flanked on the right and left my other members of the council. Did the people of Indiana know their governor was a werewolf? Sadly, they would never find out.“You broke the rules,” Governor Kane said.Oh, right. They were still not over the fact I buried Father without their permission or blessing. I tilted my head back to match his fierce stare. His platinum blond brows drew together over icy blues eyes that would have sent chills running down the spine of a regular human or wolf. But I stood straighter. “What rule?” I asked. A chuckle came from Kane’s left. There were thirteen other men present here, and it was too much of a hassle to remember their names. The final decision would come from Kane, after all. Father used

The shoebox on my table was the first thing I spotted once I opened my office door. I tiptoed inside and dropped my handbag on the chair. I could almost tell who it came from, and I wasn’t disappointed when I opened it to a note with my boss’ initials. No message. Just W.E.P. I shut the box without removing the shoe to check if it fitted. It was the same pair from the day I sprained my ankle. This one was brand new. Oh, Waylen.I darted a look at the glass wall separating our offices and frowned. My reflection stared back at me. That wasn’t right. I should see into his office, not myself. I edged closer to the wall and curved my hand around it, but my eyes stared back at me.Waylen changed it. I stormed to his door and took a deep breath. He was still my boss. Whatever happened last week didn’t make us friends or lovers.After a quick succession of knocks on Waylen’s door, I opened it when I got no reply. His scent hung heavy in the

“That was fun,” I admitted out loud.“Yeah?” Waylen murmured. The laughter in his voice made me smile. We were returning to his car, and he had his hand on my lower back. Ian was still inside the hut. The last time our eyes met, he looked constipated. “We really should start charging our clients for making us come all the way without showing up,” I said to break the silence. He chuckled. “You’re right. I’ll let them know the next time they schedule an appointment.” My body thrummed under Waylen’s touch, and at the thought of doing this another time. This should be the part where I edged away from him or give a warning to steer clear off me, but I leaned closer. He noticed, and his arm curled around my waist. We shared something back there in the hut, and if only for this evening, I wanted to play pretend.“So that’s the ex, huh?” Wayle

WAYLENBeth was the only woman I couldn’t resist. Yet I stupidly put myself in an unavoidable position with her. When she looked at me with those ‘please fuck me, Waylen’ eyes, the only person who could have stopped it from happening was the Moon goddess. I couldn’t say I regretted it. I already felt better than when I hunted her down at the hotel.  Those pictures put me in a mood. I was still wound tight but better, thanks to her. I did myself a huge disservice by going to see her, but I was worried sick and fucking horny. Waiting for Beth to verbally consent before I touched her was fucking with my head. I must be a fan of torture, and I proved it again when I steered the car toward the pack house instead of my private space. Rey greeted me at the garage. He was the only reason I could pull away from that apartment when Beth wanted me to walk her to her room and fuck her on a bigger and better surface. We would have cuddled after. I missed that shit

There was nothing to it. Waylen had a genuine reason for shipping me off that way yesterday. But I couldn’t stop replaying the events of Friday in my head in slow motion. Was it because I called him by his middle name? It made the moment feel more intimate, less of a booty call and more like an interaction between lovers. Lovers? What the hell was I doing with my boss? He was my boss, a superior. A hit on my forehead forced me out of my reverie. I glared at Lynn, and she threw another pillow at me. Younger sisters were something else. When she was not shopping in my closet, she was trying to blackmail me into increasing her weekly allowance. I tried to get off the bed but she jumped over me.  “Oh, my God. What is it?” I groaned.  Lynn stared down at me with her brown curls framing her face. She was the exact copy of my mother while I was a blend of both parents. As kids, I had to defend our relationship a lot because the idea of two different skin t