The Lycan twins are my fated mate
She rested her head on his shoulder, her scent—expensive, flowery, and entirely wrong—clogging his senses.
"You look stressed, Adam," Daisy purred, her voice a forced, seductive husk. "I can help you ease your mind. Again."
Adam didn't respond.
He picked up his phone from the nightstand, ignoring the dozens of desperate, borderline-homicidal texts from Sheryl.
Daisy didn't take the hint.
She climbed onto his lap, the bedsheets falling away to expose her perfectly sculpted body. She was an Alpha's daughter, the second-born of the Mackin line, and she knew she was beautiful.
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