She opened the door. Now she’s mine. She lives in my den. Drinks my tea. Moans when I feed from her. Elira says she’s human—but she smells like something I’d burn kingdoms to keep. I warned her to stay inside. Told her not to speak to the others. She went anyway. And now I taste the the enemy’s close. Watching. Hunting bonded pairs like us and carving out their hearts. Let them come. I don’t run. I don’t beg. I kill. And I’ll gut every Waira that calls my love a weakness before I let her go cold in the snow. But she’s changing, too. The girl who once cried under furs just used herself as bait to lure me prey. She doesn’t flinch anymore. She whispers “harder” when I pound her, and “again” when I mark her spine in blood. She let the monster in… And now she’s becoming one. Read on for obsessive monster possessiveness, survival sisterhoods, mating-bond corruption, and a skeletal war daddy who doesn’t beg—he hunts. HEA Guaranteed!