Mating the Huntress (Monsters and Mates, #1)

by Talia Hibbert

Just the other day, he’d Googled How to ask a woman out without making her fear for her life—but the results hadn’t been particularly helpful.

Of course, he’d have to give the huntress a stern talking to before he thanked her. It was very rude to invade a man’s forest and try to murder him. He understood the impulse—he was, after all, a slavering beast of the darkness and denizen of evil—but he couldn’t condone the random slaughtering of any species, as a matter of principal.

And her instincts were telling her to rip this sexy fucker’s clothes off, sit on his dick, and then carve out his heart. Or something. She was hazy on the details.

Christ, she wasn’t shy at all, was she? The hesitation, the demure smiles and lowered lashes—it had all been a trap. She wasn’t sweet or gentle or biddable. She was a bloodthirsty fucking murderer. His heart sang.

One fake-date arranged with the intention of murder, a single short but excellent make-out session, and a rather passionate fight to the death did not a relationship make.

“What I am,” he said slowly, “is yours.”

When Luke had woken up that afternoon with a fucker of a headache and a trashed living room, his first thought hadn’t been to find and flirt with his mate. He’d intended to find and spank his mate for fucking up a perfectly good coffee table with her WWE shenanigans, and also to have a serious conversation with her about how loving couples shouldn’t stab each other.

“I’ll answer a question,” he said, “for a kiss.”

“You know,” he said reasonably, “you could always reject my bargain. Or at least, you could if you weren’t determined to prove yourself useful to a family who has, for some reason, rejected your skills as a huntress. But since you are determined to do so, and since you also secretly want to kiss me, why don’t you be a good girl and let me take what I’m owed?”

“I need your sunshine,” he admitted, his voice soft. “You don’t need my darkness. I know that. But I’ll give it to you anyway. I’ll give you everything I have.”

He feigned exasperation, even as his heart swelled. She’d admitted her attraction; she’d hinted at feeling more; and now, his bloodthirsty little murderess was openly reluctant to end his existence. Progress!

“I didn’t eat them so much as enthusiastically kill them with my mouth. Subtle distinction. Can we talk about this later?”

Apparently, his mate wanted minimum lumps in this batter. Therefore, he would eliminate all lumps.

“Okay, so, Werewolves: cursed by the gods, or some shit—but really, who remembers? Forced to change during the full moon, although I can technically change whenever I want. Extremely vulnerable to silver.” He grimaced. “Please don’t ever poison me again, by the way. I threw up so much this morning. Now, where was I? Oh. Murderous urges, predatory instincts, enhanced senses, strength, speed—I think we covered that before. Also...” He speared her with a look. “We’re very good at finding the people who were made for us. And when we find them, we mate for life.”

It was all so inconvenient, having people who cared about you when all you really wanted was to bottle up your feelings and never, ever speak of them.

“See. Mates are fated. And… I’m your heart, huh?” “Surprise,” she whispered.

“You’re not only my mate. You’re my huntress. And you caught me, body and soul.”