The Lycan King's Secret Heirs
I planted my palms against his wet chest, pushing with everything I had, my heels skidding on the slick wooden floor of the gazebo.
“Caspian, stop, let go of me!” I yelled against his mouth, but he was a brick wall. He caught my wrists in one hand, pinning them high above my head against the rough wooden beam behind me, his body slamming into mine until the rain-soaked fabric of his shirt flattened against my chest.
“No,” he rasped, his lips moving bruisingly against mine, tasting of cold rain and frantic, unchecked fire. “You heard us. I know what you heard, Daisy, and I’m not letting you run away from it.”
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