“I love you, my little bird. With everything in me. I love every part of you—your red hair, your sharp tongue, the strength you hide behind that fire. There will never be another woman for me. I’ll die with your name on my lips.”

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

“No one owns you. But anyone who comes for you answers to me.”

“That sounds a little like ownership.”

“You can walk away from me once you’re safe. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t think I mind being yours in that way.”

“And every selfish part of me wants to take you at your word, bring you home, put you in my bed, and never ask another fucking question about it.”

My heart kicked hard against my ribs.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Making sure I don’t become another cage simply because mine feels better than Ciro’s did.”

When she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down those long legs of hers, I stopped breathing altogether. She rose to her full height, standing unabashedly naked in front of me, her head held high, her blue eyes daring me to look away. I didn’t.

All rational thought escaped me. My heart started pounding like a damn drum, and my throat became as dry as sand. She was perfect—every inch of her.

Daria must’ve noticed how enthralled I was, because her lips curled into a teasing grin. “What’s the matter, Boy Scout? Never seen a naked woman before?”

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

Soulmates, true love, and forever were just fairy tales—but then I met her.

It didn’t make sense. Hell, I’d spent my whole life dodging anything that even hinted at real feelings. I’d always been the guy who kept it light, never letting anyone get close enough to see the cracks beneath the surface. But Angel had fallen into my life—quite literally—and changed everything. When she was brought into the ED, bloody and unconscious, something had shifted inside me. I couldn’t leave her side, not then and not now.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

Eyes never lie, and hers told me she’d just bet her life on my word. Maybe it was courage. Maybe desperation. Maybe fate had finally decided to put someone worth protecting in my path. Whatever had brought a beautiful woman to her knees between mine with my freedom in her hand, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I would die before I let her regret choosing me.

“Am I joining The Syndicate?”

“No.” His answer came with quiet amusement. “You’re doing something considerably more dangerous.”

“Oh?”

“Loving one of its men.”

She looked like temptation incarnate—everything I didn’t want to want. I told myself I was a man of logic. But after seeing the show she put on last night, I couldn’t suppress my baser instincts. I’d watched her move, twist, writhe, and command the attention of every man in the room. She didn’t need to fake seduction—it was in her bones.

This girl, who poured coffee and read romance novels by day, was no innocent flower. Within her was a scorching sun of sensuality.

I wanted her. And I didn’t care if she burned me alive.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

There was so much I still didn’t know about her, but one thing had become terrifyingly clear.

If Isabella chose a life without me in it, I was thoroughly fucked.

A dangerous escape, bullets in the air, and Lachlan still manages to wreck Isabella with two words.

“Good girl.”

Under any other circumstances, those two words would have done terrible things to my concentration.

At the moment, I was mostly trying not to get shot.