What do you think?
Rate this book


392 pages, Paperback
First published March 29, 2024
He'd rolled up the sleeves of the flannel and it wasn't okay.
He also never bothered to button it, so it was just all rippling muscles on display all night, which also wasn't okay.
For her state of mind.
For her sanity.
For her libido. And therefore state of mind.
Statues aren't sexy. Sure, they could be beautiful, moving, arresting. You had to be dead inside not to be moved by Michelangelo's David or Pietà. But you weren't supposed to feel things for statuary.
Just call me Pygmalion. Great, now she was thinking about his rippling chest and making art history jokes to herself. This was bad.
In Anna's experience, men rarely lived up to the hype. Not that there was anything normal about Frey. He wasn't even really a man, a human man at least. Nothing about him or the situation was normal. They couldn't really date. They couldn't even go out during the day. Still, whatever could happen would be serious.
And Anna... was terrified of that.
It scared her how easily a monstrous man from the sixth century had eased into her life. Sure, there had been growing pains those first days, and yea there were moments she wanted to just be by herself in her own apartment. But those moments were far outweighed and outnumbered by the joy growing like a weed inside her each time she came home to him. To his smiles and flirting and curiosity. Even if it was just dinner and some TV before bed, her evenings felt full.
Sometimes the depths of loneliness weren't apparent until the burden had been eased a little.
She had Captain. She had things she enjoyed doing. But Frey drove out the worst of her loneliness. He had her looking forward to things again.
Did that all mean she could accept being someone's soulmate? Choosing to give his promises a chance and see what came of them?
She wasn't sure.
Because what if he regrets it? What if, after he's stuck with me as a mate, he gets buyer's remorse?
That she couldn't accept, and so all the rest went with it.
"Let me help you, Anna. Please."
The tiredness and pain pulled at her face, and he could see that right now, she had nothing left. She was at her wit's end - but she had him. a mate who would take care of her.
For that's what his Anna needed. Care. Tenderness. She wasn't a battle to win, nor a fortress to breach. He shouldn't be sharpening his blade against her hard exterior, nor trying to crack it with his brute strength. She wasn't a challenge nor a prize. Anna was a woman, one with a sharp tongue and stubborn mind and a large heart. And she was his mate.
Mates deserved care and compassion. It was their due. In his haste and desperation to finally form and solidify their bond, he'd forgotten this important tenet.
Her voice wobbled again when she finally agreed. "O-Okay."
... Being Anna's mate was to be Anna's partner. Her support. Not just her sword but her shield, her sustenance, her home. She didn't just need the strength of his arm and wing but his heart and his compassion. She would test him. try him. and likely vex him again and again - but always would she be worth it.
God, she really did love him, so much it hurt. But then, growth usually came with some growing pains, and Frey had expanded her heart, her life. She'd had her reasons to avoid anything serious with him, but those reasons had long since gone silent. Did it mean she wasn't scared? Hell no. This was so big, and there was still the very real threat of [SPOILER] out there. Who knew what [SPOILER]'s plans were or when [they] might reappear. And now she'd been pulled into a world of magick and fae and gargoyles - definitely not for the faint of heart.
And Anna wasn't. She wasn't faint of heart.
Because Frey was her heart.
So Frey bided his time. And snatched up one of his mate’s underthings to sniff to soothe the worst of his frustration.
Chewing her cheek, she turned back into the apartment, only to find Frey already a step outside her bedroom door, angrily chewing the last of his steak and inexplicably clutching one of her bras.