She can hiss and spit all she wants, but I’m taking possession of her future one way or another. Feral just means special handling.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

He let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow.

“And you’re right about one thing,” he said coldly. “I am a killer. I’ve ended lives without flinching. But there’s a difference between violence and violation. I don’t touch women who can’t say no. I don’t trade flesh for profit. And I sure as hell don’t parade innocents on a stage so monsters can place their bids.”

~Lyla Oakley, Eyes on You

She was so touch-deprived it bordered on cruelty, and I planned to make up for every stolen moment—to hold her, to care for her, until every fiber of her body and every corner of her soul recognized she was loved by me.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

I was intrigued by this fiery-mouthed woman wrapped in freckles and flame. She stirred something within me, a hunger for redemption—mine and perhaps even hers.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

He was mine now. My stray.

The thought bit at me, sharp as a shepherd’s canine. My mother’s voice whispered from the past: “You can’t turn your back on someone in need, Dasha.” She’d always said that when bringing home another mangy dog or helping a stranger in trouble. Back then, I’d thought it was all just fun and games—the more furry friends, the better. Now, I understood all too well why she’d done it. She’d been a virtuous soul married to the Devil.

Except, this stray wasn’t a helpless puppy. He was a tall, strong, hot-as-hell paramedic with kind eyes. A man from a world entirely different than anything I’d ever known.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

The moment I’d turned and caught the fury radiating off him, dark and lethal. I’d known the universe had jolted then. I’d felt it. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined Mr. Shadowman being that unhinged for me.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

And when she’d met my eyes—when she’d chosen defiance, chosen provocation—something inside me detonated.

Not romance. Not tenderness.

Claim.

Possession.

A dark, ruthless certainty that she was going to be mine to protect, mine to keep, mine to ruin the world for if I had to. And she had no idea.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

Braxton Thorin was strong enough to carry the broken pieces of me. And gentle enough to put them back together.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

I didn’t know what was going on between us, but one thing was clear: this woman was unlike anyone I’d ever met, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run from her iciness or straight into her fire.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

If Lucian had wanted me dead, I’d be dead. If he’d wanted to hurt me, use me, trade me, ransom me—he’d have done it already. Instead, he handled me as though I were breakable. As though I mattered. As though losing me would cost him everything.

And the way he’d looked at me when he told me I was pretty, it hadn’t sounded like a line.

It had sounded as if I were the very air he needed to breathe.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy