Grace Harper has always been unwanted—until fate binds her to the cold, powerful Lycan King. As secrets unravel and danger rises, Grace must face a truth more powerful than love or freedom: she wasn’t born to escape her past… she was born to rewrite it. And the king who never wanted her might be the one who can’t let her go.
Granted, I could have stood my ground. It isn’t as if their pathetic security force is enough to stop the wrath of a Lycan, much less their king. From what I can tell, even an average beta could wreck the place. After all, like most hospitals, they cater to humans. Even a weak shifter can…
“Alpha…” he begins again, voice pitched lower. He takes one step backward, creating deferential space between us, his body slightly bent forward in submission. “The Alpha has organized a welcome banquet tonight. In your honor, High Alpha.” The words emerge in a rush, like he can’t get them out fast enough. His eyes are now…
Memories I’ve tried to sidestep keep rushing forward. Caine’s face. His hand on my neck. The weight of his dominance crushing the room. Fenris, appearing out of nowhere. The way Caine was furious every time Alpha… no, Brax, screamed at me. I close my eyes, forcing myself to remember the conversation that preceded the slaughter.…
“You sure about that?” “Yes.” But even as I say it, doubt creeps in. Lyre doesn’t make things up. At least, I don’t think she does. Lyre crosses her arms. “And yet here we are, with you nearly dead from transference overload.” I shake my head slowly, my thoughts spinning out of control. If what…
“I’ll explain what’s happening to her when there’s time,” Lyre says, not even glancing my way. “But there’s something more important you need to deal with right now.” “Nothing is more important than her.” The words tear from my throat in a feral snarl. Lyre doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at me with her…
Oh. This sounds… not great. A cool touch slides along my inner arm, followed by a sharp sting. Something tugs at my skin, and the sensation drags me closer to full awareness. Not Lyre’s touch-someone else’s. Cold and strange-feeling. “BP is 90. Heart rate stable at 64.” An unfamiliar voice, clipped and professional. “Okay, the…
“Let’s just say your boyfriend threw his weight around.” “He’s not my-“ The denial sticks in my throat. Um. Maybe he is. Unless he does this kind of thing with women casually all the time… Does he? Shit. It isn’t like we had a conversation before he ripped my shirt off. Reflexively, I glance down-but…
Half of me wants to kick him off and run because oh my God , is that the sound my body makes when his finger’s inside of me? But the other half… “More,” I whimper, my hips shaking and rolling and rocking with each thrust. “Harder, please.” His fingers stutter for a second, only for…
“No shit.” She punches in numbers, holds the phone to her ear. “We could drive her, but moving her might-“ She breaks off, attention shifting to the call. “Yes, medical emergency. My friend, a young woman, is unconscious and unresponsive after…” A quick glance at Grace’s shorts, still on. She frowns at me. “After intercourse.”…
My protest is more of an obligation than what I really want, and my hands curl against the hard planes of muscle they’re shoved against. So warm. “Breathing,” he murmurs, puffing out hot breath with each syllable. Oh. Yep. I like that a lot, too. Shouldn’t. Can’t. Mustn’t. But I do. His hands span my…