Claimed by the Beast (Dark Twisted Love Book 2) by Logan Fox

Author:Logan Fox [Fox, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L. D. Fox
Published: 2018-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

If her heart had been racing before, it was fluttering like a trapped bird now. Pins and needles speared into her fingertips and traveled with light speed up her arms. She tried getting out from under Lars, but he’d managed to trap her with his long limbs.

Finn walked closer—mute, face a thunderstorm. He was all in black, but dressed as casually as Lars in a t-shirt and sweats. He wore a hoodie, but it hadn’t been zipped up and his muscles strained against the shirt as if it was a size—or two—too small. This, however, didn’t seem to hamper his movements as he grabbed Lars by the scruff of his neck and hauled him off her.

She managed a breathy, “Finn, don’t—”

But by then Finn had already slammed Lars against the wall. The man laughed at him, started to say something, and was cut off when Finn grabbed him by the throat.

A scream bubbled up inside her, but it was strangled in a throat suddenly too tight to breathe. She half-fell, half scrambled off the chaise lounge, and staggered closer to the pair. She could so clearly imagine Finn pounding his fist into Lars’s face. Shattering the man’s jawbone. Sending teeth and blood spraying over the long-haired rug.

But he didn’t. He just stood there, hand around Lars’s throat, glaring at the man as Lars slowly began to break into a laugh.

“Did you think I was joking?” Lars asked, his voice struggling through a chuckle.

“Yes,” Finn muttered. “Then I remembered what a cocky shit you are.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted, I’d have gotten to know her real good.” Lars brought his elbow into Finn’s stomach. Finn folded over with a groan, and tried to keep his hold on Lars. But he sidled out of reach and brushed off his clothes with exaggerated care.

Finn straightened, a murderous glint in his eyes. Eyes that he then turned on Cora.

Her stomach twisted, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide her hardened nipples.

“Do you want to fuck him?” Finn asked quietly in that rough, ruined voice of his.

Her stomach went cold. She swallowed hard, and tried to force a protest past her lips. But it would have been a lie. And one thing Santa Muerte looked down upon was a liar.

Inexplicably, her mind flashed to all those red candles she’d burned—almost as many as the black ones.

Black for protection.

Red for love.

Until Bailey, she’d thought she was destined to spend the rest of her life alone. When Finn had killed the man, that thought had come back twice as fast and twice as hard. Because how in the world would she ever meet anyone—let alone someone she could fall in love with—if she never saw more than five people throughout her entire day. Each day, every day.

And then Finn had happened. But she’d been wrong about him. He didn’t love her. And she probably didn’t love him either.

Well, there was only one way to find out, right?

She stuck out her chin at him. “Yes,” she said, voice warbling only a little.

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