Wolf, Willow, Witch (The Gideon Testaments, #2)

by Freydís Moon

Power resembled pheromones; everyone had a unique flavor. But Lincoln motherfuckin’ Stone… He tasted off. Scarred. Defying death by way of brutality, lust, passion—deep, unyielding want—had left him smoky and well-worn. That taste was a warning.