FROST OBSESSION
Just as he started to stand, Cass’s hand shot out, gripping his forearm.
"Stay," he mumbled into the pillow.
Luke couldn't fight it. He slid under the covers, and Cass immediately crawled on top of him, burrowing into his neck. Sleep didn't come fast for Luke, but when it did, it was filled with the heavy scent of cedar and the promise of the morning.
Victor Reyes was a dead man.
I pounded on the heavy oak door of the pack’s private wing, my blood singing with the need for a kill. Nobody crossed a Navarro and lived to brag about it. Not after what he’d pulled.
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