The moment the first morning light breached the chamber, reflecting the harsh winter snow against the stone walls, I found myself imprisoned not in a bed, but inside a veritable fortress of flesh. Varg had snatched me from the mattress in a single, sweeping motion the exact second the treacherous twilight curse broke with the dawn.
But the real torture began downstairs, in the grand saloon where the massive hearth was roaring with a crackling fury.
Right now, I was being forced to sit like a small child on the massive, heavily muscled thigh of the Giant Alpha, the very monster the entire continent bowed to. His left arm was locked around my waist like an iron shackle to prevent any escape attempt, while his right hand held a sharp, silver hunting knife.
"Varg, I am begging you... if you shove one more piece of that thing down my throat, I am going to vomit your six little devils right onto this rug," I hissed, craneing my neck backward to glare into his brutal, unyielding face.
