I wasn’t made to love.
I was made to protect. To kill. To bond.
And now that I’ve scented her, I’ll never stop. She runs a diner like it’s a war zone. Tells me I’m not real. That I’m not hers.
But her voice is the first thing that calms the monster under my skin. And when the Nine come to burn her out, I snap. Bone. Blood. Loyalty. Mine.
I was bred to obey. Engineered to kneel. But she makes me choose. Not programming. Not protocol. Her.
She doesn’t want a protector. Too bad. She has a Reaper now. Not just any killer—one who can fix her walk-in freezer.
Read on for feral bonding, alien rage obsession, protective violence, and a weaponized male who worships the ground his mate bleeds on. HEA Guaranteed!
