Broken Souls and Bones (Stonegate, #1)

by L.J. Andrews

It was a feeling like coming home, like I’d been here before.

Perhaps I ought to have feared such a brazen shift in my thoughts about the man I wanted to despise, but I was drawn to him—a moth trapped in fire-golden eyes.

When he gently tapped my shoulder three times, then again, emotion knotted in my throat. Mine. He kept claiming me—Lyra—not the melder, but me. And I wanted to claim him. Not the Sentry, not a brutal Draven, but Roark Ashwood.

I shook my head and squeezed his palm three times. He drew in a sharp breath and covered my heart, gently patting my skin, once, twice, three times. He was mine. And I was his.