The Alpha's Unexpected Luna
maramarthathe alpha's desired lunathe alpha's ex-mate: reclaiming his lunathe alpha's stolen lunaalpha's regret-my luna has a son
I mutter.
Helga gives me a discreet nod, her expression saying, Just do it.
“Fine,” I mutter.
Heather smiles and drags her chair, making space for me beside her. She’s crazier than Helga described her to be. I rush over, and she raises her phone to take the picture. Once that’s done, she makes a big show of hitting the share button to send to whomever.
“Perfect,” she says sweetly, then clicks through the system. “Let’s see… yesterday morning… ah, here.”
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