Fated to the Fang
I am not safe.
I am not gentle.
And I will not let this coast—or anything on it—touch what is mine.
I watch her from the cliffs—chestnut hair, sharp eyes, notebook already open—and the ancient thing inside me wakes for the first time in centuries.
She came for seals. She stays because she won’t stop digging.
Every drained carcass, every missing hour, every half-truth the town feeds her only makes her hungrier.
I try distance. I try warnings. I try every cold wall I’ve spent three hundred years perfecting.
None of it works.
The bond doesn’t ask permission. It sinks into my blood the second she looks at me and refuses to look away.
Now every pulse of hers echoes under my skin. Every time she gets closer to the truth, the urge to drag her into the dark and keep her there turns feral.
She thinks she’s hunting data.
She’s already hunted.
Read on for fated mates, possessive ancient vampire, stubborn marine biologist who won’t stop digging, and a man who would rather burn his own secrets than let her walk into the dark alone. HEA Guaranteed!
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