All Chapters of The Daddy Alpha’s Little Human: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Callum glared at the screen. The Council kept a DNA database of every Lycan. He wasn’t necessarily a fan of how closely they monitored the society, but he also knew that rogue Lycans were a danger to everyone and keeping track of all Lycans was necessary to protecting their species. And humans, though physically weaker, had ways to destroy them. It was best if the humans didn’t know of their existence. He could only imagine what some governments would do if they discovered the existence of Lycans. So why was the DNA from the fur at the scene of Poppy’s attack not on the list? At all.It couldn’t possibly be a wolf attack; they were in New York, in a populated, cultivated area. And a wolf wouldn’t have been so evasive; they wou

Malcom left the room feeling like shit.Part of him wanted to go storming back in and punishing her for talking to him like that. He was her alpha, her mate, damnit!  How dare she talk to him like he was nothing.But the rational part realized that there was some truth to what she’d said.The haircut had to happen, but the style had been something he and Myrna chose based on her face and bone structure.The clothes were dresses that were all extremely frilly. Again, he and Myrna chose them based on his preferences, not hers. He wanted to see her in little dresses, in pinks and whites. Frills and laces.But he never bothered to think about what she wanted.He never thought to ask.He’d assumed she’d be grateful. Based on the state of her apartment, it appeared she had almost nothing. She slept on an air mattress, goddammit! She had only a handful of clothing, most of it ratty and worn. Ev

Callum sat in his car and watched the door of the dingy apartment building. He couldn’t believe that her family allowed her to live in this place. It was old, falling apart, and the security was nonexistent.He had done his research on Melissa Jones. Because she was connected to Poppy, because she was causing a fuss, because she could hurt his clan, that was all. And that was what he told himself, even as his wolf huffed that she was his mate.What were the odds that both he and Malcom would find their fated mates at that ostentatious party? He hadn’t wanted to go; the Reachers had tried to take over the planning, and even though Malcom had done his best to shut that down, they had still, somehow, wormed their way into the preparations. Natalia and Henry always made him on edge. They were too slimy, too stuck up, too underhanded for his liking.But he was Malcom’s chief of security, his Beta. His right hand man.So he went.And he

Poppy didn’t know how many different outfits she tried on. Some were extremely frilly, some scandalously short. There was far more lace than she had ever dealt with in her life.Not to mention the various types of lingerie from the stuff that covered nothing to tasteful, but sexy.And the shoes. She had never really owned more than two pairs of shoes in her life. And now there were hundreds, in all kinds of styles and colors.It was overwhelming and exhausting.During it all, though, she and Myrna had reached some sort of odd friendship.The questions Myrna asked as she tried to understand Poppy’s sense of style led to a strange heart-to-heart conversation that ended with both of them a little teary eyed.Which shocked Poppy, because Myrna didn’t strike her as someone who cried a lot, if at all.“I just… I am so sorry that happened to you.” Myrna said as she helped Poppy out of another dress before

 Melissa’s head was pounding when she finally started to wake up. For a moment, she had no idea what had happened and she wondered if she had fallen asleep at one of her jobs.And then it came crashing back. She had been about to call the police. Her apartment had been broken into at some point. And then someone grabbed her and…Panic threatened to overwhelm her. With a great effort, Melissa remembered a lesson from one of her boarding school teachers when she often got overwhelmed or pulled under by anxiety. Take three deep breaths. You can’t control much, but you can control your breaths.After the first deep breath, Melissa wasn’t sure she wanted to take anymore. She was in someplace dark wrapped head to toe in something that smelled like dead fish.She now had the job of trying to control her panic and her need to puke.This was a pickle. More than a pickle. A huge, life altering conundrum.