Todos os capítulos de Alpha Maddox's Mortal Temptation : Capítulo 231 - Capítulo 240

I GO TO MY ROOM, AND WE BOTH KNOW WHAT FOR.Just like we both know what it means when I come back flushed and sweaty, wearing one of his T- shirts and nothing else.“Didn’t work, huh?”I didn’t get a good look at him yesterday. Tonight, the physical proof that he wants this just as much as I do is aggressively there, a ridge stretching his jeans in a way that must be painful. Looking away doesn’t even occur to me.“I tried to . . .” It’s embarrassing. I’d have thought a piece of information like this one couldn’t be waterboarded out of me, but here I am. Giving it out for free. “I tried to lick one of your worn shirts. Around the neck.”I force myself to hold his stare. Wait for him to burst out laughing, mock me, but his eyes are darker than ever.This is the most unpredictable mix of awkward, devastating, and mind addling. Needing something that I barely know how to ask for. Standing in front of someone who instinctively understands but isn’t allowed to offer it to me. How do we tal

WHEN I WAKE UP THE FOLLOWING MORNING, AMANDA AND Saul are sitting at the kitchen table.Every single ingredient that one might need to make pancakes has been taken out of the cupboards and neatly laid on the counter. A few that one might not, too.“Out of curiosity, at what point in the process do you think ketchup becomes involved?”Saul shrugs. “For the stuffing, maybe?”“Ah, yes. The famed pancake stuffing. That’s where the capers go, too?”He nods so hard, I’m afraid his jaw will detach from the rest of his face.“And remind me, the vinegar— ”“Listen,” Amanda says bluntly. “As much as we love setting our alarms one hour earlier to come visit with Mommy and Daddy, if we knew how to make pancakes, we would not be here.”I cock my head. “Am I Mommy in this scenario?”“Or Daddy,” Saul offers. “You get to pick first, since you provide the pancakes.”“Nice. I’ll take it.”Twenty minutes later, when Mommy steps out of his room freshly showered and cleanly shaven, they are in the middle

"But it’s a misnomer. It puts all the focus on the sex, when what’s really forbidden to Alphas is to form bonds that might interfere with their ability to serve the pack. An Alpha’s decisions should always benefit the Northwest. An Alpha’s family could serve as a tool of manipulation. Therefore, an Alpha shouldn’t have one.”“But what about an Alpha’s siblings? Those bonds can be just as strong. What about parents, or friends? What about platonic relationships, or— ”“Believe me, I know. It’s old-fashioned, flawed reasoning, and that’s why most packs did away with it a while ago. But the Northwest had no reason to worry about it for decades after most packs began having these discussions. My mother was the moment of reckoning. The huddles didn’t stand for it. Became independent. But we didn’t close the borders. Socially, we were still one pack, even as each huddle leader made their own decisions. But we wouldn’t always share information. And we had different perceptions of what consti

THIS AIN’T MY FIRST RODEO— AND BY RODEO, OF COURSE, I MEAN kidnapping. Still, what I learned in my previous experiences might not come in too handy.I realize it when I wake up at some unidentified point later in the day, feeling hungover and flattened by an oxcart.My stomach tries to remind me that our usual post-drugs, post-beating routine tends to involve several bouts of vomiting, but I ignore it. My head pounds, but all my limbs are still attached. I’m bruised but not bleeding.Outside, an incessant rain washes away all other noises.My muscles shake as I sit up in bed to take in my surroundings. I’m in yet another cabin— two-storied, cozy, sandwiched between a pond and a pine forest. Late morning light filters in from the window, which is notable for its bars.That alone would give me pause, but what really clues me in that this is a clear case of Not Like Other Abductions is the door to my bedroom, which is wide open.No guard.I consider climbing down the window. I could ru

“No need to make that face.” Irene’s tone is gentlyreproachful. “She was very happy to become your mother, Eva.” More pictures slide into my field of view.Smiling lips pressed to a baby-fat cheek. A tiny infant foot, much smaller than her palm. A candid, breastfeeding. Sitting in a meadow. Smiling up at the camera while a toddler fists the stem of a columbine.I see the splotch of tears on the mahogany before I even realize I’m crying.“She was very good with numbers. So are you, I am told. And she loved the ocean. Even though she had little access to it.”I look up, unsure of how to deal with all of these— these feelings. Irene, though, seems genuinely sympathetic.“She also kept a diary where she logged all your milestones. First step, first word, favorite foods. I believe it was destroyed, because I couldn’t locate it. We had to be very careful with our records— the downside of being constantly ostracized and persecuted. It was a wise choice, since the Northwest’s inability to kn