Page 52 of Her Werewolf Lover

“Hi,” she said, and even better, Sam did not let go of him.

He appreciated that, and the rolling growl in his throat eased up a bit. He squeezed her again to show his appreciation.

“Wanna walk me through what went down?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“You do that, I’m gonna check on Maya and Della and the kids,” she told him, and kissed his cheek.

He watched her walk away and stop to pick up the smoking rifle from the grass and the spent shells.

“Wow. She shot these guys?” Seff asked.

“Actually, she shot them when they were shifted and attacking me from the sky,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wow. Lucky guy. Okay, let’s do this,” Seff said, and Michael just grinned.

Fuck yeah.

He grinned and nodded, waiting for his mate to hustle her sweet ass into the house. Michael was definitely a very, very lucky Werewolf.

Chapter 19

Aweek later.

She and Maya had spent a lot of time together, getting to know one another, and Samantha was already in love with the child. She was bright and funny. A fabulous little girl with great taste in books and movies.

Della and her kids were healing from the abuse they’d suffered at the hands of her Murder, which was apparently what they called a group of Crow Shifters. The Macconwood Pack Alpha himself had visited. An enormous Wolf named Rafe Maccon with his petite wife and their four children.

The kids all played with Sean and Janie, and Samantha was shocked to learn the Alpha’s mate wasa human, too. They offered Della the protection of the Pack and welcomed Sam with open arms.

Really, it felt like Samantha was living in some sort of fantasy world. And she thought that was what Hollywood was like.

It was crazy how humans represented Werewolves in pictures. Like mindless monsters and not the loving, loyal family they were.

Of course, the reality was much better. But she understood why they needed to keep their secret, and vowed to keep it too, as long as she lived.

Every day, she fell for Michael more and more. Not just him, but her sort of stepdaughter, too. They weren’t married, but mated meant more, and she loved the child as if she’d birthed her.

How could she not?

Maya was witty and spunky and yeah, she looked just like her father. Samantha could not even try to deny it. She adored her.

Nights were getting harder. Maya and Michael returned to their condo in the city, and she stayed in that big house alone. The floors were finished, and the walls were all done.

Little by little, the furniture she’d ordered had arrived. All tasteful, sturdy pieces made from real wood and natural fibers. She just loved them.

Eileen had knitted her a fabulous throw blanket, and she was working on covers for some of the pillows, too. All in all, Michael had managed to help her create her dream house in a very short amount of time, all things considered.

“Hi! I hope you don’t mind, but Eileen insisted we come over to bake cookies,” Della, her new neighbor said, looking nervous.

“Of course, I told you, you are always welcome. Hi Sean. Hey Janie,” she cooed.

“Sam! What do you think about this costume for the Halloween dance?” Maya asked, showing her a costume she must have found online.

“Wow, Maya, that is gorgeous,” she said, noting the exorbitant price and wondered if she should have talked her down.

“Yes! Daddy, can I order this?”

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