Tangled

"There is mystery, action, romance, emotional angst, and so many twists you have to know more!" - C. S. ★★★★★

"This story read a little like an episode of Criminal Minds or possibly even Law & Order: SVU with a decidedly paranormal twist." - Jacqueline ★★★★★

"This was a very well written shifter story." - Diane ★★★★★

"Kindle melting sexual tension!" - Sylvia L. ★★★★★

"Wow! This story was intense!" - Elise V. ★★★★★

"This suspense romance paranormal kept me glued to the pages!" - B. Angel ★★★★★

"This fabulous story which will keep you on the edge of your seat and highly entertained!!" - K. S. ★★★★★

"Nancy Corrigan is just as great as Lora Leigh with her Breed's Series or Christine Feehan is with her Carpathian Series!!" - Kym Jones ★★★★★

"Do you want to know what your choices are?" Uri's tone takes on a lulling cadence that leaves my skin tingling. "Or shall I just pick for you? Decide. My patience is not endless."

"What are my options?"

"Either you become a victim to those who are killing the shifter homeless in this city. Bryon stops being a pathetic excuse of a male and claims you in a way these other shifters won't question." Uri draws me closer, his hardness pressing into my stomach. "Or another male makes it clear you're not a toy up for grabs."

A shaky exhale leaves me trembling in Uri's arms. I've lost control of this situation, and Uri's led me into the real reason he brought me back here alone. "You haven't given me choices. You've given me your justification for doing whatever it is you've planned all along."

"Not all along. Just since I hunted you down here tonight and found you in another dangerous situation." Uri bends his head to mine and skims his parted lips along my jaw to my ear. "Now I have no choice, especially after you so eloquently used air quotes to point out my failings as your mentor."

"So you're going to claim me as your...your toy?"

"Possession sounds better, don't you think?"

"Not really." Both leave a heaviness low in my belly.

"Hmm..." Uri turns my head and brushes his lips to the base of my throat. "Then how does..."

Uri doesn't finish his words. He slides his palm up my spine and bends over me. I arch into him and tip my head back, giving myself to him. That's what it feels like, anyway. I'm surrendering. This game, my body, my heart--I'm not sure what I'm giving up. I only know I can't resist this man.

I snatch Uri's wrist as he tucks my hair behind my ear and wait until he looks at me. "Beloved human. You said that's the official term for what I am to you now, but it's not how you view me. So how do you view me?"

Uri shakes off my hold, tosses my jacket over my legs, then turns his back on me and walks to the door.

"Uri." I hop off the pool table, my jacket falling to the floor. "Answer me."

"Mine." With his hand on the door handle, Uri finally glances at me. "That's how I view you. That's how other shifters will view you. You're mine."

"Lyla. Come here." Uri drops to his knees and holds my face in his hands. Then he stares at me. Time stands still with just his gaze on me. My rough breathing slows as the lust turns into something else, something softer. "Thank you, my little mate."

And just like that, my heart races in an attempt to escape my chest. "Mate? Is that what I am to you? Your mate?"

The huge golden lion blocking my hallway lifts his head and zeroes in on me with pale yellow eyes.

A small squeak escapes me, the sound as primitive as the urge to run tensing my muscles. I grip the doorframe, my nails digging into the wood, and fight the prey instinct. That's what it is too. This is Uri in his lion form. It has to be. I heard his voice downstairs. No other shifter would come up here and sit in front of my door looking like he wants to devour me. Then again, the predatory way this lion is watching me doesn't give me any indication of sexual interest. It looks like it wants to hunt me.

"Uri?" My voice sounds as afraid as I feel. There's no hiding it. I want to run.

The lion pushes to his feet, and the leather purse hanging from his neck swings before settling against his chest.

Tension drains from my body. It is Uri. That's his man bag that I accidentally teased him about. And the lion's sleek, powerful muscles and the slight sway to his body as he walks echoes the way Uri moves--confidence and strength in every step.

The lion's rough yet soft mane brushes against my hand as he passes me. With purposeful strides, the lion walks to my closet, catches the purse's strap on the knob, then lowers his head, extracting himself from the purse and shaking his mane once free.

My hand over my mouth hides my smile, but no doubt the hope--the excitement--show. I drop my hand.

"Are you giving that to me?" Either that or he's started carrying it again. He hasn't worn it the last few times I've seen him.

The lion turns his big, shaggy-maned head and focuses on me, studying me with the intensity of a predator before lowering his head in what resembles a nod.

I shut the bedroom door, slamming it a little too hard and shaking the pictures on the wall, but I don't care. The hand-me-down purse hanging on display is the most beautiful present I've ever gotten from any man. I hurry over to where Uri's lion hung the purse, drop to my knees, and skim a finger over the worn seams and the scratches in the leather, then look over my shoulder at the lion standing at my back. "Is this a present? For me? As in, you're giving me a present?"