_juice_

“I clawed my eyes open and rolled off my bed. For some reason, someone had moved the floor several feet lower than I had expected, and I fell and crashed with a thud.
Ow.
A blond head popped over the side of the bed, and a familiar male voice asked, “Are you okay down there?”
Curran. The Beast Lord was in my bed. No, wait a minute. I didn’t have a bed, because my insane aunt had destroyed my apartment. I was mated to the Beast Lord, which meant I was in the Keep, in Curran’s rooms, and in his bed. Our bed. Which was four feet high. Right.
“Kate?”
“I’m fine.”
“Would you like me to install one of those child playground slides for you?”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Slays

“Curran snarled and hurled the rock against the mountain. The boulder flew, hit like a cannon ball, and rolled back down. Curran chased it, pulled another smaller rock out of the dirt, and smashed it against the first one.
Wow. He was really pissed.
Astamur's eyes were as big as plates.
"I can get him to put those back after he's done," I told him.
"No," Astamur said slowly. "It's fine."
Curran picked up the smaller rock with both hands and threw it onto the larger boulder. The boulder cracked and fell apart. Oops.
"Sorry we broke your rock."
Atsany took the pipe out of his mouth and said something.
"Mrrrhhhm," Astamur said.
"What did he say?"
"He said that the man must be your husband, because only someone we love very much can make us this crazy.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Rises

“A massive beast dashed along the mountain apex.
Astamur reached for his rifle. “A demon?”
“No, not a demon.” I might have preferred one . “That’s my boyfriend.”
Atsany and the shepherd turned to look at me. “Boyfriend?” Astamur said.
Curran saw us. He paused on a stone crag and roared. The raw declaration of strength cracked through the mountains, rolling down the cliffs like a rockslide. “Yep. Don’t worry. He’s harmless.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Rises

“Did he just rip out the engine?" I asked.
"Yes", Saiman said. "And now he is demolishing the Maserati with it."
Ten seconds later Curran hurled the twisted wreck of black and orange that used to be the Maserati into the wall.
The first melodic notes of an old song came from the computer. I glanced at Saiman.
He shrugged. "It begged for a soundtrack.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Slays