Chains of Frost: The Bellum Sisters 1 by T. A. Grey, Regina Wamba

were the worst. And
to be the Alpha, the strongest of them all? He dominated the dominant ones. He
was going to be the worst.
    “Fine, keep the shirt.” She spun
around and headed in the opposite direction. She felt his fingers curl around
the bare skin of her arm a second before she was spun around and pulled into a
hot, hard chest. “Let me go, Lyonis.” He smiled at her—the way a predator does
to a prey before it leaps.
    “Not yet, little one. You’re even
more beautiful than I’d imagined. You are mine now. At first, I was not happy
at the news, but now I can see why Francis left you to me. A fine gift I must
say, for the debt I owed him. I think I may be getting the better end of the
bargain.” His hand reached up to touch her hair, but she quickly ducked and
spun out of his arms. She was breathing hard and she didn’t know what from.
    “I am not yours. I will never be
yours. I am not a possession.”
    A perfect masculine brow cocked
high. “But you are mine according to law. I can do with you as I wish. I will
protect you, and you will get to be my queen. Most of all, you will care for my
needs day or night, as I will yours.” Willow’s jaw fell open and then her hand
shot out, caught his hard jaw with a resounding smack. His eyes flared before
narrowing on her. “You should be warned that if you run, I will not be able to
help myself. I will come for you and I will never stop. And after seeing that
flare of passion in you, I am even more determined than ever to have you.”
    “No, you will not! Do you hear
me, beast man? Go find someone who actually wants you, because I don’t.” She
tried to pull away, but strong hands latched onto her arms and brought her back
into his body. She bared her teeth at him and struggled to free herself.
Suddenly he was bending his head down toward hers.
    She froze, her blood pounding in
her ears. His mouth came closer and closer to her lips. God, he smelled so good;
would he taste as good? But then he changed direction and nuzzled her ear.
    In a voice that sent shivers down
her spine he said, “You are mine, Willow Bellum. Mine, now and forever. I warn
you not to run from the beast, for the beast will only chase you, thrilled by
the hunt of such a perfect prey. Come with me now and save yourself because you
will never be able to outrun me.” The lulling, deep tones of his voice had her eyes
closing, and the kneading way he held her arms was almost nice. But the
challenge he presented brought her back to reality.
    Using all her strength, she
shoved him away from her. She had a feeling he only moved at his own volition
and not because of her, but her ego ignored that.
    “I will never be yours. I am not
a possession.” She gave him one last look then sprinted off down the street,
the power of her body guiding her.
    The chase was on.
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Chloe wished she could say she’d
spent the night MacGyvering the room up with gadgets and weapons to help her escape
or, at the very least, had already escaped, but instead she’d spent the night
passed out naked in the fluffiest bed she’d ever slept in.
    Really, what was this thing made
out of—angel feathers?
    In her defense which, okay, maybe
wasn’t much of one, she’d been dead tired from the flight to London, the
craziness at the cemetery, and the, like, thirty minutes of sleep she’d gotten
hadn’t been enough.
    Climbing off the bed, she found a
stack of clothes sitting on the side table. She vaguely remembered seeing the
table last night when she’d been busy climbing into bed, but she knew there
hadn’t been clothes on it then. Had Tyrian come in here while she was asleep?
Did he find her even a hint as sexy as she did him? Because she was almost
tempted to stave off her escape until after her new moon.
    The man confused her. On one
hand, her instincts told her to move away far and fast from him. On the other
hand, her mind told her that her father would not have sent her to live with