“I’ll be gentle with you, Mouse.” I lowered my mouth until it was barely above hers. “But don’t mistake gentle for restrained. I want every one of those pretty little sounds you make.”

Her pupils blew wide.

“And before I’m finished with you, I want to hear you scream my name.”

“I went from a career that was on track, a boyfriend who I thought was total husband material, and a past that was neatly tucked away where it belonged…to this.” I glanced around the room, holding my hands out in a helpless gesture. “Jobless, single, hitching rides with strangers. And a past that’s now the only future I have.” I laughed bitterly. “Sometimes fate’s a little bitch.”

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

Every selfish part of me wanted to tell her she was already mine.

But I refused to use the worst day of her life to decide the rest of it for her.

She was perfect. Beautiful and defiant, soft in all the right places, and strong in ways that sent my imagination spiraling. I loved the way her voice had cracked when she’d told me to let her go…and then moaned when I didn’t.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

“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

In his eyes there had been genuine compassion. Those kinds of eyes didn’t belong to liars or cowards. They were the kind of eyes someone could hold on to in their darkest moments. That kind of human decency was foreign to me, a quality I’d never witnessed in the cold, calculated men who had shaped my life—the Bratva, the Kremlin. It made him compelling and dangerous because it drew me to him.

He was an American, a man risking his life to help in a war that wasn’t his and believing he’d be safe. And that trust in the better angels of our nature was my undoing. And now, for reasons I couldn’t fully explain, I was willing to risk everything to help him. If I hadn’t felt compelled to act before, the decision was now clear. Letting him die here wasn’t just a part of the mission I’d chosen—it was unthinkable. My fate was sealed.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

Kol seemed intent on savoring every moment, stretching time until it became a malleable, pliant thing in his hands. His deliberate and precise way of claiming my body would leave an indelible mark on my memory. It was both exciting and a little terrifying, the thought of this confident, possessive pilot taking command of my pleasure.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto fractured, and those eyes of the unholy turned murderous, setting my blood on fire with equal parts fear and hunger.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

“Next time I kiss you, I’m not stopping because I’ve suddenly decided to be noble.” His gaze stayed on mine. “I’m going to kiss you until you’re holding on to me to stay upright, put my hands everywhere I’ve been thinking about putting them since that dungeon, and find out how many of those pretty little sounds I can drag out of you before you’re begging me for more.”

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