FAZER LOGIN“Hand over your human slaves, and we will leave you unharmed,” Marion retorts.“We’re not slaves!” one of the women says over the female werewolf’s shoulder. “Please don’t hurt them,” she says, eyeing the silver weapons and our Sun Warriors patches nervously. “They’re our friends.”My mind immediate
NatashaIt’s strange to be on a run with Marion instead of Sebastian. I didn’t want to leave him after all our promises to each other this morning. He’s exactly the kind of man I’ve always dreamed of being with: someone who protects his people and fights back against those who threaten them.Someone
Sebastian kisses me again, this time parting my lips to deepen the kiss, his tongue expressing maybe more than he could with words. I don’t want him to stop, but he does, just like he did last night.“Still,” he says, “can we wait until I’m healed to tell her about us? Just in case she attacks me,”
NatashaI wake up to the gentle snoring I’ve only sometimes heard through my tent wall.This time it’s in my ear.I open my eyes to the inside of Sebastian’s tent and the memory of him asking me to stay the night.The memory of his body on top of mine, his lips finally on mine, his hand on my breast
The truth of it is reflected back at me in Isaiah’s eyes, filled with longing and grief. Natasha may not be dead, but she’s no longer with us, and her absence is a never-ending, gaping hole.“Either Owen is in pain without her,” I remind Isaiah, “or Natasha is in pain while they’re together and she’
DiegoAs the spare heir, the overlooked prince, and the abandoned little brother who I’ve trained everyone to see as nothing but a silly little playboy, I’ve had my fair share of pain. Of being discounted.Tossed aside.But none of it hurts quite as much as this. My own brother, not even caring enou
AmeliaIt’s been less than an hour when a knock sounds on my bespelled door. Part of me flutters at the idea that the prince couldn’t stay away as long as planned, but my embarrassment at how he left earlier stops me from teasing him about it as I open the door.And a good thing, too, because it’s n
OwenI shut Amelia’s door closed behind me, rushing down the hall to my own bedroom.I stop short when the dahlias on the table catch my eye. Her new favorite flower.Part of me hopes that in the brief moment I’ve stopped, Amelia will come bursting through her door, asking me for something. Anything
AmeliaMy heart skips as Prince Owen’s mouth brushes against my hand. His lips are softer than I could have imagined. A warmth involuntarily blossoms between my thighs in response.His eyes that are still locked on mine flash gold like they sometimes do, drawing me in. His graceful fingers tighten e
“This way, miss,” he points away from the palace, into the gardens.I’m not sure where we’re going, but I don’t ask as I change direction. These small acts of kindness, of dignity, of calling me “miss” and allowing me to walk unbound and unhandled…I do not want to take advantage of them. I do not w







