The Lycan King And His Human-fated Mate

nquility that had blanketed the Blackwood home. She was already awake and alert, having forgone sleep

laden with a combination of poorly ma

ed through the tiny speaker, thick with undisguised sarcasm. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be

hat some things never seemed to change. "You know me," she coun

miliar that it plucked an errant string of nostalgia deep within he

as this it? Was her new partner – this Marshall Pierce, the so-called "hotshot p

continued, as if reading the mounting trepidation in her silence. "H

tant companion these past few weeks. Within the hour. Which meant she still had time to ensure everything was in order, to banish any lingering

rs and affixing her expression into one of dogged determination.

the line. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, kiddo. Just...try to take it easy on the gu

he wanted to play mentor again, did he? Dolling out the pep talks and the puppy-dog eyes of poorly conce

nt hint of steel to bleed into her tone. "I'll be sure to show your little b

her thinly veiled dig had hit its mark. "That's my girl," Carter managed betw

ine warmth. "I'm proud of you, Lily. Proud that you've still got that fire burning in your belly, even after all this time." A meaningful pause,

mask of conflicting emotions. Deep down, she knew Carter's advice was sound – knew that buckling down and

– bristled at the prospect of having to surrender even a modicum of control. This was her story, her harrowing journey back from

silent moment of introspection. God, when had she last truly looked at herself, stripped away the pretenses and hang-ups and obsessive pursuit of her chosen

t to tame their wild disarray into something resembling a semblance of order. "Well, Lily, you wanted back in the big lea

ation. With a renewed sense of purpose thrumming through her veins, Lily got up on her heel and made for the stairs,

n uttered by her father. Despite herself, despite the lead weight of portentous expectation that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach, Lily felt the corners of her mouth quirk

veritable warzone of pots, pans, and what appeared to be the remnants of at least a dozen cracked eggs. The burly man spun toward his daug

o?" he boomed in that rumbling baritone of his,

ed stubbornly at her lips. "Jesus, Dad, what's got your britches in a twist at t

norted, thos

clasped in his hand. "Well now, when a man's fixin' to welcome a guest into h

d on the tip of her tongue, but her father steamrolled ahe

scoff. "But if this big break of yours, this story you got comin' down the pike...if it means puttin' that spark back i

its insistent clamor shattering Lily's concentration. With an exasperated huff, she tossed aside the sheaf of pape

epidation wormed its way into the recesses of her mind as she made her way toward the foyer. What if this hotshot photographer despised her brusque manner and single-minded

y situation to her indomitable will? If this Marshall Pierce couldn't keep up with her pace, that was his own problem. She

, her caustic greeting already perched on the tip of her tongue. The words, however, swiftly withered

toting an oversized camera with more lenses than common sense,