“She was comfortable enough that she was beginning to suffer from the most chronic condition of slavery— boredom.”

“She crawled on top of him, naked and warm and soft, smelling like a miracle that had saved him from a lifetime of aloneness.”

“Then he snarled at her. “You are not leaving me.”It was an order, and she didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders. That was part of being Omega instead of a regular werewolf – who might have had a snowball’s chance in hell of being a proper mate.“You need someone stronger,” Anna told him again. “So you wouldn’t have to hide when you’re hurt. So you could trust your mate to take care of herself and help, damn it, instead of having to protect me from whatever you are hiding.” She hated crying. Tears were weaknesses that could be exploited and they never solved a damned thing. Sobs gathered in her chest like a rushing tide and she needed to get away from him before she broke.Instead of fighting his grip, she tried to slide out of it. “I need to go,” she said to his chest. “I need–”His mouth closed over hers, hot and hungry, warming her mouth as his body warmed her body.“Me,” Charles said, his voice dark and gravelly as if it had traveled up from the bottom of the earth, his eyes a bright gold. “You need me.”

“Charles was most comfortable by himself or, if that wasn't possible, with his pack in the wild. Talking for hours in a crowded auditorium was not on any list of things he enjoyed—or things he was good at. At least no one had died. Yet.”

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked. "Enough to accept my apologies?" I suggested in a small voice. "Heck no," he said, and pushed off from the wall, stalking forward. When he reached me, he put his hands up and touched the sides of my neck with the tips of his fingers--as if I were something fragile. "No apologies from you," he told me, his voice soft enough to melt my knees and most of my other parts.”

“Mine, ... Mine is what she is. ”

“She was his and he hers.”