All Chapters of Logan: Alpha Alliance Book I: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Emory--I almost forgot for a second that Mama hasn't said her piece yet. “Oh, sweetie. I can. Cora has never been a good apple. She’s been a city girl her whole life. She just doesn’t care about anybody else. That’s not about you."I dare to try and interrupt her "Just because someone wants to live in the city, doesn't mean that--"You’re a sweet girl, Emmy-Jo. You just didn’t see it." She plows directly over me like bit of clay under Daddy's tractor. I never stood a chance. "Now, we are comin’ up there and we’re gonna meet this young man. Is he a nice boy? Does he have a good family? Does he love his mama?” Here we go. I’m sure that Mom’s already hearing wedding bells after hearing that Cora lied and he isn’t as bad as I thought. Though, with this "fated mate” thing, I guess she’s not that far off. “Mom, nobody needs to come up! Let me get this handled with Cora and really figure things out with Logan first. I don’t even know where you all would stay!” I am so not touching whether

Logan--I have officially done all I can about the press nightmare for now. There is a careful balance to walk– we can barely allude to the werewolf accusation or we risk lending it credit. The more we pay attention to it, the more everyone else will. We’ve decided to focus on the abuse accusations against me by having Emory come out with a sanitized version of the true story. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to work for me again, which is another problem off my plate. As far as I’m concerned, she’ll be busy enough as my Luna that any other job will be unmanageable. I’m sure Emory and I will have an argument about it later, but her talents for design and attention to detail will make her a great Luna. She has the interpersonal skills that it seems I’ve been lacking the entire time. It’s hard to remember how the pack was before my mother passed, but I feel like there’s a distance that wasn’t present when I was small. I knew Emory was perfectly suited to me, but I’m just now real

Logan--I watch Emory shyly reach for her fly as I get situated in the floorboard of the car. I’m not sure why she’s self-conscious now when I’ve been watching her change and sleep and cry for a month, but maybe she doesn’t know that I was aware in wolf form? Or maybe it’s just that it feels like our first time all over again. I know so much more about the nuances of her emotions than when I did this the first time. I stroke her thighs before pulling her pants down, just to give her a little reassurance before I start my work. “Good girl, baby. I thought I would go crazy watching you put this bit of lace on, but I think I’ll go even crazier watching you take it off. Go nice and slow for me.” Her thumbs hook into the waistband of her thong before she blinks and seems to come back to herself. “Wait a minute, this is supposed to be my show! You should have to strip, too.” There she is. I love that she’s getting more comfortable with me. “You mean you don’t want me to eat your pussy

Emory--I forget sometimes how skilled Landon can be with people. He has a different kind of charm than I always had growing up, and his all-play little brother shenanigans draw people in a way that I often overlook. There’s a reason he naturally fell in as Beta. There’s nobody better to offset my– admittedly– intense energy than our loveable rake Landon. I’ll have to thank him later for setting Emory at ease while still reminding her that she’s the only one not getting the level of information we get from scent. I’m proud to have everyone know what we were doing on the way here. I’ll wear Emory’s scent like cologne for the rest of my life if she’ll let me. But Emory, judging by her blush, didn’t realize that our sexual contact isn’t as private as it would be in the human world. I’m pulled from my thoughts by my driver clearing his throat only to be distracted again by Emory’s obvious approval of the pack house. No matter how much time I spend at the penthouse during the week, this

Logan--The pack house is deserted. I should remember to thank Landon for that later. Emory and I have had all afternoon to get used to each other in this space as opposed to a more neutral one. She’s– understandably– less sure of herself here, but I can almost feel her relaxing little by little beside me, and her hand loosens in mine as I draw her into what will be our bedroom. I haven’t ventured into the actual design side of my business in a long time, so I’m interested to hear her opinions of my space. It was okay if she didn’t like the penthouse, because I really wouldn’t like living in it full time, either. My rooms in the pack house, though? This is where I can be my most authentic self. I don’t let the rest of the pack in here as a general rule, partially because that’s traditional and partially because I need to have my own space if I’m going to be who the pack needs me to be the rest of the time. How do you respect a man after seeing his dirty underwear on the floor? All of