Ditched! The Alpha's Secretary Ain't His Puppy No More

racing the embossed lettering on Peter Riegert's business c

tion, Secretary White, but he thought

steady as the letter opener lying

or the distant howl of wind a

ts and fetching coffee. Now, all that remained of me here

're his r

sted. "He d

pend on the moo

en the m

efore they c

ared back at me w

hidmanor a vial of Peter's blood, taken f

ike a relic fro

ht y

t, alpha of the North Ridge pack, had sunk his teeth i

ad awoken something in me-something wolfish, somethin

the first time I'd se

gert manor, during

Madeline, and when he turned to l

f the light, but then cam

ashes in the drywall, and his tooth had grazed my

the next morning, sliding a

you more than

a Br

tone pack. I'd heard the stories: how Peter had howled at the moon for mo

tures of them under fireworks, his arm around her wa

in my chest, unex

to my sternum, fee

lls became overwhelming, sounds deafening, and the

ays been stricter with me during lunar cy

t of my clothes, a k

snowflakes melting

eep brown-flickered go

are yo

" I said, forcing a smil

he muscle ticking.

save for the radio p

thudding, smell the anxiet

light, he turned to me, his ga

mplete," I finished, s

Peter. For