“She wanted to feel him pound away her fears, a hammer to smash through all her guilt and pain and emptiness.”

“There’s danger in feeling,” Tess murmured. Although she could not begin to imagine what kind of pain Dante carried within him, she felt a kinship growing between them. Both alone, both adrift in their worlds. “I don’t want to feel anything for you, Dante.”“God, Tess. I don’t want to feel anything for you either.”

“As a girl, Mira had held his hand and led him out of a dark place. As a woman, she’d held his heart, despite his efforts to prove himself from caring for someone he could never bear to lose. Now he only hoped he’d find the strength to push Mira away, when all he wanted was to pull her close and never let her go.”

“She felt like she was walking up on a wounded animal, unsure if reaching out to him was going to win her a bit of uneasy trust or a vicious taste of fang and claw.”

“I don’t know what I want … other than more of this. More of you.” Brock lifted her beautiful face on the edge of his hand. “Take all you want.”

“Pain? He could handle that, no problem; it was the idea that the female he loved was suffering that made him want to either punch something or vomit in the corner.”

“He wrapped his palm around the back of her neck, possessive but tender as he gazed into his mate’s brown eyes. “She knows she’s got me, anyway she wants me. Forever, if I have anything to say about it.”