Cracked (15 page)

Epilogue

R
eturning to the Amazon compound always made Sarita feel as though she were a minor celebrity, but she still didn’t think she’d done anything that spectacular. Honestly, she was a little embarrassed at the attention.

She and Angelo had settled into their new routine in the city, and she finally felt as though she were living a life of her own. His work kept him traveling, and she followed, bringing sketch books and cameras and reveling in the freedom of it all. She’d become used to helping Angelo advise the FBI—really!—on lupine relations, even though the now-lupine Agent Poulton was taking over Angelo’s duties as a go-between.

Ted and Kathy had wasted no time—at least, not any more time—in forging their bond, so here Sarita was, back at Amazon for a baby shower.

Querida, you should have gone up without me.
She felt Angelo’s touch across her mind a moment before his arm slipped around her waist, and he kissed the back of her neck.

“And miss Auntie Mo’s face when she sees you walk in the door wearing jeans and a T-shirt?” She grinned over her shoulder at him before reaching to press the elevator button. She felt his love pulsing through her as surely as her heart pumped blood in her veins. It wouldn’t take long for Monica or the rest of the family to realize why Angelo’s wardrobe was at risk. Sarita was expecting a pup of her own, and his wolf would do nearly anything to protect his mate and their pup.

The Murphy family was as loud and raucous as ever, their smiles and hugs warm as they pulled Sarita and Angelo back into the fold. Following the laughter deeper into Monica and Fionn’s apartments, Sarita wondered if she’d ever get used to seeing Kathy in her new body, no longer petite like herself, but tall and bronzed.

“Don’t be petulant, Sarita.” Kathy looked up at her and winked, rubbing at her rounded belly.

“Never.”

She looked down at the wrapped gift in her hands. The painting wasn’t the most practical gift, but it was a gift from the heart. She remembered what she’d said to Angelo about her art: It’s about destiny. A sense of being confined, restrained, trapped. But her muse had changed, that night in the caves.

Now her art was about opening the cage and letting freedom come tumbling out in a glorious animal mess.

About the Author

Vanessa North was born in New England, but moved to the South as a teenager. She reads voraciously, writes obsessively, and takes thousands of photos of the people she loves. 

She lives in Northwest Georgia with her husband, twin boy-children, and a very, very large dog. Find her online at
http://www.vanessanorth.com