Even covered in blood and close to disaster, Isabella’s attitude hits Lachlan exactly where it should not.

That little flash of attitude made me want to kiss her, which was inconvenient as hell at the moment.

Turns out, a woman rolling her eyes at me while covered in blood and standing a few yards from a fatal drop was exactly my type.

Good to know.

“I love you, my little bird. With everything in me. I love every part of you—your red hair, your sharp tongue, the strength you hide behind that fire. There will never be another woman for me. I’ll die with your name on my lips.”

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

It wasn’t merely his pale aquamarine irises, sun-darkened skin, and black hair that held me captive. It was the unspoken threat and raw power within him that stripped me of my own will.

It was as if he could read my thoughts, latch onto my soul, and yank it from my very body.

Whoever he was, he was dangerous and had developed a twisted interest in me—wanted something from me—and that wasn’t good. The anger he exuded told me that much.

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

Instead of standing, he lowered himself onto one knee between my legs and took my face gently in both hands.

“Look at me, Isabella.”

Something in the roughness of his voice made me obey.

His green eyes held mine, and hearing my name wrapped in that deep Irish accent made everything else recede.

“You’re safe,” he said.

Noelle was an open book—most of the time. She didn’t bother hiding who she was, and I respected that. But the topic of her parents? That was a door she kept bolted shut. It stirred up an instinct I didn’t usually have for strangers—to defend her from whatever hurt lay behind that door. It wasn’t the same as looking out for my brother and sisters, or even the guys in my unit. This was different. More visceral. I wanted to shield her from whatever caused her pain and make it right.

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

“Mouse, you’re not going to hurt me.” I guided her down. “It’s time you found your place over my heart.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“How do you always read me so well?” she whispered.

I brushed my thumb along one of her cheeks.

“Because you’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted to know by heart.”

Daria wasn’t just ice—she was fire too. She would burn for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. She carried a quiet, unseen goodness, the kind that refused to be extinguished no matter how much darkness tried to swallow it. It was still there, even after men like her father and Malinov had spent decades trying to snuff it out. And as for all the blood on her hands, I knew—knew—she had never wanted it there.

She hadn’t been born a killer. She’d been made into one.

Forced into the Kremlin’s machine, raised under her father’s brutal rule, taught that love was a weakness and that her only loyalty was to the men who controlled her. Every lesson had been beaten into her. Every moment of softness was something she’d had to carve out of herself just to survive. And despite all of it, she had still chosen to protect the innocent. She had still risked her life for the Ukrainian people. For me.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

I shut my eyes, my mind drifting again to my Russian stalker.

The one whose voice played over and over again in my thoughts…my dreams. I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands. His mouth. His angst. The way he’d kissed me, like he hated himself for wanting me.

I couldn’t understand why he kept showing up out of nowhere.

But right now, I wanted that version of him—the one who’d chased me through that building not to hurt me but to get to me first, like he knew monsters lurked in the shadows.

Maybe I didn’t deserve to be saved. I’d been too impulsive. Too trusting.

But God help me—I wanted him to come.

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

“No one will ever hurt you again, not on my watch. I’ll stand between you and the world if I have to. You’re my heart, my soul, and I’ll spend every last breath ensuring you feel loved, cherished, and safe.”

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

I’d gone into the dungeon to find out whether Lachlan Byrnes could be trusted and returned wanting his hands on me and his violence aimed at everyone else.

God help anyone who stood in his way when Lachlan got free.

God help me when he turned all that attention back on me.

I was already half out of my mind over a man who’d barely touched me.