Total pages in book: 202
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Her parents leaving the village helped; I know he never found it easy to talk to them afterwards and he was always withdrawn for weeks after she visited them here. Joel doesn’t show it to many, but he feels things in a big way.
I’m happy with how this place turned out. I dug out the basement and added the garage and rec and utility spaces, put balconies and sliding doors on the upper two stories, and knocked down a couple walls. I also put in a new chef’s kitchen, not that I’m much of a cook. Wishful thinking that my future mate would be.
The place has a big yard and more than anything, I liked the location. It’s beside a big park with a playground; the place I played baseball in as a kid. On the other end of that park is a path that leads to the street my childhood home is on, where Dad, Mom, and my sister live, so it’s not much more than shouting distance and nice and close for babysitting needs once there are pups.
I’ve always pictured my future to include a large family. Always loved the idea of an unbreakable bond with someone, my parents’ bond severing notwithstanding. There’s got to be a pretty damn good reason for a severing and it’s a process designed so it can’t be done without certainty. To this day, I don’t know why their bond was severed, but as it happened before I was out of diapers and she left never to return, I have no memories of her and felt like nothing was missing from my life.
I know she was a member of the local coven, knew people in the village before she mated with my father. I also know no one in the pack has seen her since they split.
A few years after she left, Carrie stepped into the mother role for me, and I have very few early memories of times before she took that role, so I’ve got nothing but love and respect for the human woman I call Mom.
Carrie tearfully told me she couldn’t give me the many brothers and sisters she’d hoped to give while I held my little sister in her fluffy pink blanket for the first time. Pregnancy and childbirth were rough on her so when Bailey was still tiny, she went to town for surgery at the human hospital to ensure she wouldn’t become pregnant again.
Whether my biological mother had other children or not, I don’t know, but I grew up playing, roughhousing, hunting, and laughing with the five brothers fate gave me with my council co-alphas not to mention other kids in the pack. Bailey came along and we’re close. And now that I’ve got Ty, now that we’ve all got Ty, finding my mate is one of the two missing pieces taken care of.
This female is key to completing my circle. Great family. Awesome friends. A community I would die for, and I’ll get to make kids, watch them grow, and do it with my soulmate by my side. The only missing piece would be connecting with the witch blood in me, and I’ve been feeling called to do that as well, especially since finding out Riley’s mate is my first cousin. Now that Erica Young is here, I suspect it’s time for me to get acquainted with witchcraft.
This place has space for a big brood. An extension if we need more rooms. I’m thirty-two. She’s probably not far off twenty-five or twenty-six, so plenty of years available to make that big family.
We get to the bedroom, and I watch her eyes widen, landing on my unmade bed. Not only is her heart racing, her body shaking, but also the scent of her fear is stronger at the sight of my king bed covered with the tousled red comforter and black sheets.
“Didn’t make the bed. Didn’t know I’d be bringing you home,” I admit.
Speaking of which, the kitchen is a bit of a write-off, too. And there are probably jeans on the bathroom floor, toothpaste in the sink.
I watch her take in the space, the white bedroom furniture, the cream-colored walls other than the wall behind the headboard that’s a color called red gumball. I don’t give a shit about one shade from the next, but remember my sister insisting gumball was the nicest of the dozen paint chips that all looked just red to me.
I set her down on the foot of my bed and twist the lamp on for some soft light before I turn the big light off, then squat in front of her, taking her face into both hands.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
She stiffens even further.
I lean closer and stare deep into her eyes.
“I know you’re my mate and I want you to tell me your name. It’s my right to know.”