“Stormy, you’re playing with fire.”

Crawling closer to him, I brushed my lips along his ear. “Good thing I’m not afraid of getting burned.”

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

Daria wasn’t just ice—she was fire too. She would burn for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. She carried a quiet, unseen goodness, the kind that refused to be extinguished no matter how much darkness tried to swallow it. It was still there, even after men like her father and Malinov had spent decades trying to snuff it out. And as for all the blood on her hands, I knew—knew—she had never wanted it there.

She hadn’t been born a killer. She’d been made into one.

Forced into the Kremlin’s machine, raised under her father’s brutal rule, taught that love was a weakness and that her only loyalty was to the men who controlled her. Every lesson had been beaten into her. Every moment of softness was something she’d had to carve out of herself just to survive. And despite all of it, she had still chosen to protect the innocent. She had still risked her life for the Ukrainian people. For me.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

I stayed silent, watching her breath. I wanted to freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever. No woman had ever affected me this deeply. Maybe it was her innocence—the fact that she was a blank slate due to her amnesia, free to write her story anew without the weight of past memories. God, how I longed to help her fill those empty spaces.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

I leaned in, keeping my voice low as the monitors beeped in the background. “I’ve got your back, pretty angel. I won’t let any more harm come to you.” It was more than a promise; it felt like a vow. Being this close to her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that fate had thrown us together for some higher purpose. Here I was, a beast, and there she was, a beauty—our lives slammed together by some twist of destiny.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

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

“It was only a simple kiss,” I said. “It’s not like you threw me against a wall and f***ed me until I didn’t know my name—not that I know my name, but you get my drift. Besides, I all but fell into your lap and begged you to kiss me. No need to be dramatic. It was no big deal.” I huffed.

~Anastasia Volkov, Day Shift

She was so touch-deprived it bordered on cruelty, and I planned to make up for every stolen moment—to hold her, to care for her, until every fiber of her body and every corner of her soul recognized she was loved by me.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

And when she’d met my eyes—when she’d chosen defiance, chosen provocation—something inside me detonated.

Not romance. Not tenderness.

Claim.

Possession.

A dark, ruthless certainty that she was going to be mine to protect, mine to keep, mine to ruin the world for if I had to. And she had no idea.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

“No one will ever hurt you again, not on my watch. I’ll stand between you and the world if I have to. You’re my heart, my soul, and I’ll spend every last breath ensuring you feel loved, cherished, and safe.”

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

Braxton Thorin was strong enough to carry the broken pieces of me. And gentle enough to put them back together.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift