The Alpha of Bleake Isle (Dragonkin, #1)

by Kathryn Moon

The afternoon sun streaming through Lady Gertrude's windows did not shine on the alpha, but soaked into him, as if absorbed by his surly stare and dark wings.

I liked Lady Nightingale, who never once called me by anything but my name and would lend me scandalous books from her personal library.

"I think you'd rather see the dresses," I teased. "It's not the dresses themselves so much as you putting them on and taking them off again," Ronson said, grinning.

"Mairwen. Is this not your fist in my chest? You clasped it around my heart, and you now demand every beat it issues."

Eat him, the new voice in me purred. He will stick between our teeth, but it will silence his tongue.