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Lord Ahman is my mate—and my executioner. Who is Beauty, and who is the Beast?
PASHA
I need a monster to fight my beast.
What I get is Ahman, the Prince’s Enforcer, hunter of Witches and those tainted by the forbidden Dark. . .the Fae Wolven Lord who rejected me forty years ago.
I’m his soul bound mate, but he is my executioner.
When he finds me I can no longer hide, my only choice to either accept his help then kill him, or accept his help and die.
There’s not one sacrifice I wouldn’t make to protect my people and break my curse, and the first must be my bleeding heart.
AHMAN
As the long arm of Everenne's justice, I hunt and kill Dark creatures who slip between Realms. I hadn’t expected that in my long search for my recalcitrant mate, I’d discover she is one of those creatures.
I forced myself to let her go once and now my choice is to uphold the law, or abandon oath, justice, and even my soul to save her from her demon.
And though there must be balance, though I will mete out her punishment. . .
I’ll let the Dark consume us all before I let her go again.
I will become the monster who can love, and protect, a beast.
TROPES
- spicy adult high fantasy romance
- Beauty and the Beast retelling
- rejected fated mates
- morally gray
- Fae/wolf shifter/demon
- age gap the way immortals do it (yeah, he’s 500 years old, but at least she’s 70, right?)
- MMC with Joscelin from Kushiel’s Dart vibes
- FMC is not a damsel waiting to be rescued. Well. . .trapped in a valley full of cursed roses, but details
- modern alternative magical Earth
RELEASE ETA: AUG/SEPT 2025
Excerpt. . .
Excerpt. . .
“You commanded me to claim you how I like,” he says, savage, “and how I like is deep. How I like is your screams. I will never be a gentle lover.”
No shit.
It rolls off the mental tongue easier this time.
He pulls out and slams back in.
My back arches as I instinctively try to crawl away from him. Pleasure and pain claw for dominance.
“No, Ahman—wait—” a strangled protest wrings from my throat.
Ahman laughs. “Non, ma belle petite, there is no no. You go nowhere. Until you’ve taken my seed and coated me in your come, you ride my cock. And, Pasha, I have no plan of allowing either of us to come until you’ve broken beneath me. Understand, in here, the only Lord is the male fucking you.”
My beast, bound deep down, rattles, hissing at this show of dominance—truly? She is only now taking offense? But Ahman plunges in and out, his strokes designed to pummel me into complete submission.
His hand winds tighter in my hair. “Say it. Say who is your Lord.”
My breathing hitches; I’m unable to move, to think beyond what he’s doing to me, been doing to me. His expert manipulation, playing my mind and body with skill he’s hidden all these years, as if he knew I would retreat and slam the doors to my mind shut if I knew how easy it would be for him to dominate me.
Still I try, I try to please him, but my throat can’t catch air, and my mouth can’t form syllables.
“You defy me.” Silk voice, steel cock. His fingers tighten. “Are you unconvinced?”
I try again. “No!”
I didn’t mean to say that; it’s just the easiest syllable to pronounce.
“No?” He draws the word out. His thrusts are fast and shallow now, to toy with me so I don’t know his rhythm, can’t brace a second before the next thrust. “No?”
“Please, I—I can’t—”
He’s reduced me to this mewling, desperate creature; I’ll remember. I’ll return in kind.
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