Dark Lover (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #1)

by J.R. Ward

Wrath was six feet, six inches of pure terror dressed in leather. His hair was long and black, falling straight from a widow’s peak. Wraparound sunglasses hid eyes that no one had ever seen revealed. Shoulders were twice the size of most males’. With a face that was both aristocratic and brutal, he looked like the king he was by birthright and the soldier he’d become by destiny.

That female was dangerous to him. If she could affect him like this without even being in the damn room, she might just be his pyrocant. His detonator, so to speak. The express-lane EZ Pass to his self-destruction.

Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistible urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.

“He’s marked you.” She frowned, looking down at herself. “I can smell it,” Tohr said. “The warning’s all over you.” “Warning?” “As if you were his shellan.” “His what?” “His mate. That scent on your skin sends a powerful message to other males.” So she’d been right. About the sex they’d had and what it meant. That really shouldn’t please me as much as it does, she thought.