Crave (Shadow Bred, #4)

by Grace McGinty

Men I’d loved for so many years before I’d had to make a choice between them and Quinn. And I’d always choose Quinn’s safety over my happiness. Every damn time.

“Easy there, mate. Gotta chew before you swallow. Deep throating is for masturbation, not mastication. That's what my maker always said.”

Susannah had reached out and punched the big vampire in the tit. She’d hit a fucking vampire in the chest to shut him up. Fuck, we were going to die.

“This is your second chance, Spitfire. This is your chance to be happy. You don’t accept the suit of anyone who doesn’t worship the very ground you walk on. Who doesn’t accept you and Quinn for who you are. You deserve to be treated like perfection, not as some fucking backwards Alpha’s chew toy. You deserve the world. Don’t accept anything less.”

I hoped the new Alpha encouraged them to fish outside the Maxton lagoon for potential mates, otherwise their little Manixlettes were going to have more heads than a Kings Cross brothel.

“If you need anything”—a nest, treats, cock, my cubs—“all you need to do is ask. Murphy and I are here for the both of you.”

“My poor Omega,” I whispered against his lips. “Soon I’ll get you out of these clothes and into a nest. And then I’m going to fuck you, fill you full of my cubs, knot you deep until the only thing you can feel—the only thing you can think of—is the feel of my cock inside you.”

“It smells like a whorehouse on a two-for-one night out here,” he groaned. “The natives think you’re all perverts.”

How did Manix do that every twenty minutes for days on end? It was fucking lunacy. Merrick laughed from where he was nuzzling against Quinn’s shoulder. Whoops. I’d said that out loud. “That’s just the beginning,” Murphy purred. “Welcome to the frenzy.”

Something got in my eye, and I blinked it away rapidly. Yeah. That’s what was happening. There was no crying in baseball.