The Lycan Monarch’s Voluptuous Mate
"They keep the strong ones to breed their own soldiers and send me the dolls. They think I want toys."
"Your Majesty," one of the older Lycans said, his voice tense. "The treaty—"
"The treaty is a joke," Valerius snapped.
Then, his ice-blue eyes landed on me.
He walked over, stopping right in front of me. Up close, he smelled like cold pine and copper. He was massive. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye.
He didn't look at me with the disgust I was used to from Gideon or Sienna. He looked at me like he was studying a strange animal that had wandered into his yard. His eyes swept over my wide shoulders, my thick waist, and the heavy curves under my oversized sweater.