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My grimace deepened.
He was probably right about that. The way Lizzy had snarled at Sabrina was probably not a great sign.
I ran a hand through my hair, and Lizzy’s wolf nipped at it. She wanted it back on her fur, which made me chuckle quietly and resume petting her.
She definitely already liked me, and I was damn glad about that.
Me: It’s alright, I don’t want the house smelling like you if I do bring them back there. Not sure how my wolf will react when I finally let him out.
Dax: Good point
Dax: Is she attractive?
My lips curved upward as I looked back at the wolf. My gaze lingered on her, but my mind brought back the image of her, in my doorway, holding that chunky little guy on her hip like he didn’t weigh a thing.
Lightly tanned skin, toned muscles. Long, shiny brown hair, and serious hazel eyes. She’d had on ripped jeans and a cropped tee that showed a strip of her belly, not at all the way I would’ve imagined a toddler-mom to look.
Then again, she had been a dancer. Her son had been unplanned. I wondered how she had felt about that, when she found out.
My fingers rubbed her fur casually.
There were always dozens and dozens of werewolf families who would love to adopt a kid, because it was so hard for us to have kids. We knew it wasn’t always in the cards for us, but some people still wanted them desperately.
If she hadn’t wanted to be a mom, she could’ve found a great family to adopt her baby in a heartbeat, though, which meant she had wanted Evan. And the way her wolf watched over him told me that she loved him fiercely, regardless of however she had felt when she found out she was pregnant.
As I sat on the bed, scratching my mate’s furry head, I grew more intrigued by her story. I wanted to know about her, and her past, and who she was.
There was a protective connection that seemed to fall into place as I considered it. A connection that declared her mine—and me, hers.
