The human smiled at Tasha, creeping her out. “It’s clear to me that you’re Onyx’s girl. What’s not clear to me is whether or not you know he’s an animal.” “Being a shifter doesn’t make someone an animal,” she replied. Her wolf bared her teeth at him. “Oh, so you’re a shifter groupie.” The humans all laughed. “There sure are plenty of them roaming around.” She was about to correct him and declare that she was a half-shifter and proud to be, but then Onyx took her hand and squeezed lightly. She understood the signal: He didn’t want them to know in case they targeted her. Neither did she but, dammit, this jabbed at her pride. “How can it not bother you that he’s inhuman? You’re a traitor to our race.” “And you’re a pedophile, a rapist, and a sadist…aren’t you, Jace?” said Trevon, ending the sentence with a snap of his teeth. “You have a fondness for young boys, as I recall.” Shock crashed into Tasha as the implications of that comme

Shock took over Edward’s face, and his eyes bulged. “What the—” “Don’t speak. Just listen.” The chattering in the room suddenly stopped, and Tasha was pretty sure that if Onyx had been anybody else, people would have intervened. But it was like Trevon had once said: When Onyx was angry, people paid attention. At that moment, he was absolutely livid, and only a fruit loop would have wanted Onyx's wrath shifted to them. Her wolf was feeling pretty smug about the whole thing, liked that her mate was protecting her; it was important to her to know that he could. “You can see Shaya beside me,” growled Onyx. Edward’s eyes briefly flickered to her. “So I don’t think I need to explain why I’m here or why I’d like to snap your neck, do I?” Edward did what was typical of any bully—he stood down the second someone stronger than him confronted him. Rather than fighting Onyx’s grip, he stayed very still. “No.” “I don’t think I need to explain what wil

Her traitorous body had responded to that, just like it was responding to his very presence now. But getting him to go away would be simple enough. Not simply because seduction wouldn’t be possible, but because no wolf liked to be around menstruating female shifters. Shifter PMS was a bitch—a time filled with excessive fatigue, mood swings, irritability, cramps, bloating, aching breasts, tension, increased appetite, sleeplessness, and hot flashes. “So that’s why you’re snippier than usual,” said Onyx. “It explains what your pretty ass is doing out of bed so early, too—you usually have major trouble getting up in the morning.” It also explained why her breasts were bigger than usual. But he wouldn’t comment on that. He wasn’t stupid. She gasped, indignant. “I get out of bed just fine each morning, thanks. And I’m not snippy.” If he was sensible, he’d walk away. Female wolves with PMS were likely to eat someone’s fa

The total lack of recrimination was a balm to his wolf’s scarred soul. Onyx wanted nothing more than to take her mouth, but he forced himself to resist. Needing some sort of contact, he leaned his forehead against hers and traced her cheekbone with the tip of his finger. “See, you deserve better. But I’m going nowhere. I know that makes me selfish. I know another male shifter might have walked away. But I can’t do that, Tasha. I tried it once—it didn’t work. Don’t you get it yet? My life’s worth shit without you in it.” She did her best to ignore his words, to not let them worm their way inside her—she really, really did—but they crept into that lonely spot she had, warming it. The possessiveness in his eyes melted her wolf. As he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, Tasha almost shuddered. Having him invade her personal space like this, touching her, should have annoyed her, but it was instead arousing her. Her nipples were hard, and her clit was ti

After three weeks of Onyx doing his best to immerse himself in her life, Tasha was about ready to cry…because it was working. To her dismay, he was utterly consistent in everything he said and did. Each morning, he would be waiting at his car with a coffee and an offer of a ride, which she had given up on refusing. Each day at work, a gift and a text message would arrive that brought a smile to her face and made her want to laugh. Every lunch hour, he came to take her to lunch wherever she wanted to go. At the end of each day, he was there to collect her from work with a meal he’d cooked for her. And every Sunday, he helped her with grocery shopping and offered to do any jobs around the house. Although he touched her often and teased her with the things he’d like to do to her, he never pushed for more, never took advantage of the arousal that was coming close to ruling her body. That same arousal was responsible for the dream