Mating the Huntress (Monsters and Mates, #1)

by Talia Hibbert

Thank you to my boyfriend, who, instead of confiscating my laptop when I broke my own rules to write this book, said, “Sounds pretty cool, actually,” and proceeded to mind his own business.

LOL

And once he figured out how to ask a human woman on a date, Luke would mate her and fuck her and live happily ever after as her devoted swain.

Adorable

She was special, and shy, while he was an apex predator with a burning desire to sink his teeth into her arse.

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.

According to his research, human women didn’t like being harassed 24/7. He still wasn’t 100% clear on how not to do that, but he was trying his best.

Respectful little wolfie

But twenty-five years ago, on the day of Chastity’s birth, some batty old oracle had rocked up to the delivery room and told her parents—in typically dramatic fashion—that if Chastity ever became a huntress, her first kill would rip out her own heart.

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.

He’d do whatever it took to keep his mate smiling that rare, half-moon smile.

Luke is friggin sweet

His smile widened into a grin she found disturbingly attractive. “Tut, tut, Chastity. What else do you lick?”

Luke has got me giggling

“My main problem is biting, actually.” He choked on a mouthful of cupcake.

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.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Because I should tell you, all that does is get me hard.”

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.

She may have tried to kill him, but he was still alive, so he forgave her.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, only half-teasing. “Rip my throat out?” “I could no more rip out your throat,” he said honestly, “than rip out my own heart.”

“You don’t need my darkness. I know that. But I’ll give it to you anyway. I’ll give you everything I have.” She dragged her teeth over her lower lip, a frown creasing her brow. And then she said, so low a human might not have heard, “The dark is just as lovely as the light.”

“Trying to convince me that you’re not a monster?” she asked darkly. “No,” he murmured. “I would never lie to you, my love. But I am trying to convince you that a monster is just what you need.”

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!

tried to kill you,” she repeated, “and you’re a person.” “Yep.” She winced. “I’m a murderer.” “No, sweetheart. You’re an attempted murderer.”