Page 72 of The Alpha's Sin
My chest feels tight, my throat raw, but I don’t hesitate.
“I promise, kitten. We’re going to get married. We’re going to raise these babies together. And we’re never going to be apart again. Not ever.”
Her lips tremble, but she nods. I kiss the crown of her head, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world—because she is. My sweet little kitten.
And as my knot throbs inside her, binding us even closer, I know one thing for sure…
I’ll burn the world down before I ever let anyone take her from me again.
62
POPPY
I can’t believe how well everything worked out.
I’m in my fourth quadmester now—growing an Alpha baby takes a long time. My belly is enormous, and I feel big as a house, but Logan still looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. He loves me, he takes care of me, and I finally feel safe.
Sometimes I still think about that awful time right after Dirk’s death…
I was scared that it might be traced back to Logan. I was terrified they’d lock him up, call him a murderer, and take me away from him.
But Logan thought of everything.
He chained me back to the bedpost—after we both got dressed again—and then called the police himself. When the officers arrived, they found Dirk sprawled on the floor, his throat a ragged ruin, the apparent victim of some kind of wild animal attack.
I stayed on the bed, my eyes wide, shivering, the chain clinking against the post. I told them I’d heard snarling outside and Dirk went to the door with his shotgun. When he opened it, a huge wolf lunged in and ripped his throat out. I swore to them I thought the beast would have killed me too if Logan hadn’t arrived just then and scared it away by blowing the horn on his truck.
Of course, the cops asked why I was chained to the bed. I started crying—I didn’t even have to pretend, my emotions were so raw—and Logan took over.
He told them he’d been searching for me ever since Dirk had kidnapped me. He explained Dirk’s plan to wait until I gave birth and then sell my babies to the highest bidder.
The officers searched the shack, examined the scene. I could tell they wanted to pin something on Logan, but they couldn’t. The coroner swore nothing but an animal could have shredded Dirk’s throat like that. In the end, the official report said “wild animal attack.”
Logan kept his arm around me the whole time, holding me close. I buried my face in his chest and let myself feel safe.
The very next day, we drove back to Virginia. We packed the entire house into a moving van and drove—we didn’t stop until we were halfway to Oregon.
Now we live in a little town called Silverton, Oregon. It’s quiet here, with tree-lined streets, friendly neighbors and a quiet sense of community. Logan found us a house with a big backyard and a spacious nursery—the perfect place to raise children.
There’s no local Pack here, which suits us just fine. Not far from our neighborhood is a forest, just perfect for the nights when Logan has to Shift into his Wolf. We have the privacy we need to be happy and feel safe.
We even got married here, in a tiny white chapel with stained glass windows and roses climbing the walls outside. I wore a beautiful dress, and when Logan slid the ring onto my finger, I thought my heart would burst. Later that night, when his knot filled me, I felt more safe and more loved than I ever thought possible.
Dr. Elizabeth recommended a new doctor here, and she says everything looks good. I’m due any day now. My breasts are heavy, my belly round, but Logan still calls me his kitten and holds me like I’m precious.
I know the future won’t always be easy—but I also know this: Logan and I will face it together. We’ll raise our children in this bright little town, safe from Packmasters and cruel men, and we’ll finally have the family we both dreamed of.
EPILOGUE ONE
POPPY
Six months later
Logan comes home from work just as I’m getting the babies up from their naps. He still smells faintly of sawdust and fresh air, and my heart does a little flip when he walks through the door. He grins when he sees us—me juggling Patricia on my hip while Daniel squirms in his bassinet.
“I’ll take him,” he rumbles, already tugging off his work jacket. He lifts our son with ease, cradling Daniel’s solid little body against his broad chest. Daniel has Logan’s dark hair, already thick on his head, and every time I see it, my heart melts.
Meanwhile, Patricia is fussing, her sweet downy-blonde head butting against my chest. I settle into the rocking chair and unbutton my blouse, letting her latch. The ache eases instantly, replaced by that warm, grounding bond that never stops amazing me. I look up and catch Logan’s eyes, and the love shining there makes me catch my breath.
