TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING
Knox can’t die here, in the snow, with that bastard watching like it’s entertainment.
“Please, I need you, please wake up.”
Over and over. The same words. Pounding against his chest between each one.
“Please, baby, I need you, please wake—”
His eyes snap open.
No warning. No twitch, no flutter of lashes, no gradual return. One second his eyes are closed, blue, lifeless. The next they’re OPEN, and they’re not his eyes anymore.
They’re gold.
Molten, burning, inhuman gold, like someone lit a fire behind his irises and let it blaze.