Protected by her wolf, p.1
Protected by Her Wolf, page 1
PROTECTED BY HER WOLF
LEADVILLE SERIES BOOK 2
K. J. LAVALLEE
Formatted By
LAVALLEE FORMATTING
Copyright © 2022 by K. J. Lavallee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
Dedications
1. Stella
2. Stella
3. Stella
4. Stella
5. Marcellus
6. Stella
7. Marcellus
8. Stella
9. Stella
10. Marcellus
11. Stella
12. Marcellus
13. Stella
14. Marcellus
15. Stella
16. Stella
17. Marcellus
18. Stella
19. Marcellus
20. Stella
21. Stella
22. Stella
23. Stella
24. Stella
25. Stella
26. Marcellus
27. Stella
28. Stella
29. Stella
30. Jericho
About K. J. Lavallee
Also by K. J. Lavallee
DEDICATIONS
For the single mom’s out there. There is nothing greater than doing everything you can for your children as the only parent. I know, I was one of you. Dream big for you and your family and you will succeed.
To Michelle, thank you for helping me get this book done. Your cover art and your edits save my life.
To my friends, thank you for your support, it means more to me than you will ever know.
To my husband and children, thank you for putting up with me while I work my magic. I love you all so much. Your support helps me through my tough days.
1
STELLA
Byron gives me a hug and a sweet kiss on my cheek. “I’ll miss you, mom.”
Kissing him back, I say, “I’ll miss you, too, buddy.” I hold him tight to me, hoping he can feel how much I love him. “You be good for Nana, and no fire! You know she doesn’t like that.”
His face falls. “But I like when my dragon breathes fire.”
“I know, sweetie. We’ll play when I get home, okay?”
“Okay.” His tone is only slightly defeated.
I kiss him again on his head before he runs off into his room. Probably to become a dragon where my mother, Ivy won’t see. Ivy is better now with the whole, my son can change into a dragon bit, but when he turned five and he did it right before our eyes, shocked was an understatement.
For some reason I can’t explain, it didn’t scare me. I felt drawn to him while he was in his dragon form. As if his dragon was calling to some primal part within myself. That’s what scared me. I pulled him out of kindergarten and started home-schooling him the next day. Luckily, he was out on winter break when it happened, making it easier to keep him home.
My mother, boy was she ready to bolt and call the priests to come and do an exorcism. I had to calm her down and tell her that no one can know, that this has to stay between us, and I’m prepared to care for him on my own. She went and stayed in a hotel after Byron’s incident, I thought we had lost her for good. It took her a few days but she finally came back to me and said that Harry would roll over in his grave if she ever left us stranded. Harry, my father, passed away when Byron was three. She does love us both, sometimes it feels like she adores Byron more. Either way, I’m thankful that she moved in with us that weekend and has been my biggest supporter since.
Since I travel to clients' homes for my job, I teach Byron whenever possible during the day and after work. However, most of our academics are taught on the weekend, when I can give him all of my attention.
I work with children who have disabilities, helping them get back into a routine that is familiar for them after major surgeries. I also help them with their physical therapy, teaching them how to use their bodies as they once had.
Meeting the children at their homes helps to give them a sense of comfort, and makes it easier for me to help them through their daily routines. Plus, it gives their parents an idea of what it should look like in their homes as well.
Today I’m going to see Donavan, and Crystal.
Donavan is a sweet little boy who’s had so many surgeries in his short life, he is the epitome of hope for me. Donavan had grade one tumors in his brain, he had them all removed, and underwent chemotherapy. He was doing so great, recovering well and was very happy. Then it came back. He had to have a few surgeries in his legs when he became paralyzed after an accident put him in the hospital two weeks after his last chemo treatment. He is able to move around much better now, but it’s slow going. I’ve met with him more times than any of my other patients. He has beat cancer again, and hopefully this time, it stays away. He has never given up. He fights each and every day for his shot to live.
I drive thirty minutes to his house, making sure to avoid the main roads, traffic this time of year is ridiculous. All the people out shopping and getting ready for the Christmas holiday. That’s a month away, but you would think it's in two days from the amount of people in and out of all the stores.
Besides helping the kids in need, I love that I can basically wear anything that I like. I have yoga pants and a polo on. My polo has my business logo on it; an adult hand held out for the child’s hand reaching up to clasp the offered one, with Stella’s Helping Hands written beneath it.
I get out of my car and grab my crate of items I bring for each meeting. Inside I have ice packs, heating pads, a portable ultrasound machine, resistance bands, an electrical muscle stimulator, and a yoga mat. I also have a portable treatment table, and an exercise ball for children. If they need more intensive care with equipment that I don’t have available to carry, they come to my house. I have an in-law suite, attached to the home that you can only access from the outside, no one will come through my house to get there. I have that set up as my medical office. I’ve only had a handful of patients come to me. Donavan is one of them. We also have privacy screens up so we can see out, but passersby cannot see in. I always make sure my mother and Byron know that I will have clients over, so they don’t go outside until they’re gone.
Today is my first day coming to him after his accident. I’m able to stick the exercise ball on the top of my crate and wheel it over, while carrying my table in the other hand. I have a messenger bag over my shoulder, too, that has my laptop and personal documents that pertain to my two clients I’m visiting with today.
I ring the bell and hear barking from Donny’s new puppy. Donny has a beagle puppy. His mother got him for Donavan as a welcome home gift last month. Donavan always wanted one, and she figured if it helps keep him happy and smiling, it won't hurt anyone if she got him what he wanted.
“Donny, Ms. Stella is here!”
Maxine opens the door smiling widely at me. She eyes my hands full of items and her eyes go wide. “He still needs all of that?”
“He’s still recovering. He needs as much assistance as I can give him. Last week he was doing it at the office, I figured he should be fine to do it at home.”
“Here, let me take that from you,” she reaches her hand out to grab my table, but I hand her the handle for the cart Instead.
“It’s easier if you tug that. This table is rather heavy, and I would hate for you to throw your back not being ready for the weight.” I’ve never needed to bring the table before. The sight of it must be a shock for her to see that he isn’t quite ready for his normal home visits. Usually, we are in my office longer, but Donny was progressing well and I can do everything else here.
“You’re very thoughtful, Stella. Throwing out my back wouldn’t be good right now.” She glances behind her, and I get that she means being in bed will not be good with a son in a wheelchair. She needs to be able to help him in and out of it, which she wouldn’t be able to do if she’s bedridden too.
I smile up at her, and step up into her home. “I can imagine not.” Donavan comes rolling around the corner in his new wheelchair. “Ms. Stella!” He shrieks. His new puppy yapping at his side, wagging her tail excitedly.
I bend down to meet his eyes. “Hey Donny, I see you’ve got a new puppy. Want to tell me about him while I set up for you?”
His face lights up with excitement and he talks animatedly as we make our way into the living room. All of the furniture is pushed back to allow room for our visit. “His name is Milo!”
“That’s a wonderful name for him. Does he sleep in your bed?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. Mom said we have to train him first, but once he’s potty trained, he'll get to sleep with me.” The brilliant smile on his face is a joy to see.
“Yeah, puppies don’t realize that the floor and beds are not for them to potty on,” I tell him.
“I know. But he’s doing really good, and mom said she thinks in a few more weeks he’ll be ready.”
“You need to make sure you keep your toys off the floor. We don’t want him eating them.”
He giggles at my words. “He ate my slipper.”
I laugh with him. This kid really brings me joy. Even when he’s been dealt a shit hand, he’s never down.
Maxine help s me set up the treadmill for today’s visit. As a gift to them, because Donavan has become one of my favorite people, I purchased a rehabilitation treadmill that has side bars to help him walk. It was second hand and I got it for a fraction of the price, and I know with all of his hospital bills his parents couldn’t really afford it. That's in the middle of the room now, but they keep it tucked away on the side when not in use. I encouraged them to have him try and get up to use his legs if he’s feeling antsy. I’m not so sure they’ve tried it yet. It’s a daunting piece of equipment, and it’s scary to think your baby boy has to use that. Today we will be getting him on it. Maxine will see how I help him across and she will be more comfortable with getting him on.
We spent two hours working on getting his body ready to walk, or attempt to walk. He complains a little because it hurts, but he toughs it out and goes through the motions with me.
Three hours later we’re done and I’m stopped outside Crystal’s home. She was born with hypotonia. It’s a condition that causes progressive loss of muscle tone and is usually detected in infancy. I’ve been her therapist for a few months now. She can walk a few steps, but falters after her third or fourth. I also assist her with reaching and grasping for items. Her muscles are very weak, but I try to help her through physical therapy as best I can. I’m not that close with her and her parents, but she’s a good kid.
It's three pm before I make it back home, exhausted, but desperate to see my own little guy. It's been almost three years since he first turned into a dragon. Each day I fight the urge to track down the bastard who got me pregnant, however, I barely know his name. If, what I know, is his name to begin with. But something always stops me when I finally find the courage to get some professional help in locating the guy. I mean, I really only know his first name.
Sometimes I wonder if this life I was given is my fate. Because having a kid and being a single mother is one thing, but having a dragon for a child is another altogether. There are times that I’m tempted to hire someone to look for Byron’s father so I have someone to help us navigate this life with him, because I’m flying blind here. But I'm actually happy with how things are. I don't need Cole. He gave me my son and that's all I will ever receive from him.
With the thoughts of Cole plaguing me and a migraine forming, I walk through my door with a fake smile plastered on my face. I know that Byron can sense when I’m unhappy even when I’m trying not to be, but he chooses to ignore it when I pretend for him.
Today is Friday, which means I have two days off. Two full days with my little guy. I drop my bag off in my office that's right off the hall from the entryway. I do a minimal amount of work in there, that’s mostly where we have class for Byron. This is a five-bedroom home, a bedroom for each of us, an office and a library. I’ve been collecting books for myself since I learned how to read. I have so many books in there from my childhood, that I can’t even tell you what they’re about. When I learned that I was pregnant with Byron I decided to start building him a mini library, too. He enjoys books as much as I do. We spend hours in there reading together in our little nook every week. It’s something small, but it’s a memory I treasure. He will read to me, or I’ll read to him. It’s our time together that I cherish.
A glance out the window tells me that mom has Byron in the backyard, in his dragon form. Our home is at the end of a cul-de-sac, with our neighbors not near enough to see in the back yard with our privacy fence up. Byron’s trying to fly. Mom's so good with him like this, she’s patient and somehow knows how to guide him to achieve what she wants from him. I follow her lead when it comes to teaching him control of his dragon. She completely did a one eighty and all fear of him went out the window. She embraces him, lets him explore his new life. All except for the fire. We don’t know how to control that, but I do my best when I’m home.
I stand there and watch them for a moment. He gets about two feet off the ground before he plummets back down. The first time he fell, he spewed fire and set the shed aflame with his fear of falling. We have a hose on standby every time we get him out like that. But my mother is scared he may fry her, even if not purposely.
I open the screen door, and call out, “Hey, having all this fun without me?”
Instantly, he changes back and lands on his feet before he races over to me. “Mom! You’re home early.”
I look at the clock and then him. “Bud, I’ve been gone almost eight hours.”
“It felt like minutes. I love it when Nana lets me be a dragon. Flying makes the day go so fast.”
I smile at his enthusiasm. “I’m glad my time away isn’t missed,” I say to him.
I watch as they run through a few more routines, flapping his wings and trying to stay in the air without falling after a minute. She has him take running jumps into the air as he shifts, and he’s really good at that one, but staying up is the hard part.
After they are done, we eat dinner, and watch a movie. I doze off on the couch; barely aware it’s happening until my head lolls to the side and I snap my head back up, awake again.
Yawning, I stretch out my limbs and say to Byron, “Kiddo, it’s time for bed.”
“Awe mom, just ten more minutes?” I’m so tired, I can’t do five minutes, let alone ten.
I glance from him to my mother. She nods, agreeing to have him go to bed when the movie is done. “Okay, but once this is done, it's off to bed for you. Nana needs time alone, too.”
I get up, ready to go up to bed myself. Byron comes over and gives me a hug and kiss. “Okay, Good night, Mom.”
“Night bud.”
I head up to my room, feeling the migraine sucking the life out of me. God, I wish these damn things would just stop coming so much. It’s a real buzz kill when my medicine makes me drowsy and my kid can stay up all hours of the night on a weekend.
Hopefully it’s gone when I get up, since mom will be gone tomorrow. She meets up with her friends every Saturday. They are gone all day long. She deserves time for herself.
I'm planning on staying home all day tomorrow. Maybe take Byron out for some ice cream. He’s doing much better controlling his dragon, so we may be able to manage one stop.
I fall into my bed, barely managing to throw the covers over my body before sleep takes me under again.
2
STELLA
We're making playdough, the one thing I can manage today since my migraine never left, even with taking my medicine. I have the diffuser on, and I’ve used an ice pack, and still, I have no relief.
As much as I would love to just lie down in bed all day, I have responsibilities. A son to care for, food to make, and a house to clean. The laundry has piled up and I need to dust the book shelves, since it’s been ages since the last time, I’ve done that. I let Byron play with the playdough in the living room as I clean the rest of the house. I put some cookies in the oven for a snack for Byron. His favorites are peanut butter, and I enjoy those as well. Then I set up the crock pot with our dinner. Once that’s going, I set about cleaning up the kitchen, then move throughout the house getting everything tidy.
I'm finally done, and ready to sit down when there’s a knock on my door. “Byron, go into the kitchen and wait for me there, okay?”
He knows the drill. When he gets really excited or nervous, he changes. And I do not want him to do that with a stranger at the door. I consider who would be knocking at this time. I don’t have any friends. Also, there aren’t any appointments scheduled for the weekend. And my mother is gone for the day and due to come back soon, but she has a key, she wouldn’t knock.
