GRAYSON

I had to keep reminding myself not to grip Belle too tightly as I held her against me during the flight to Zaweth. I pressed my nose to her hair, inhaling her scent by the lungful.

I was mad. For more than one reason.

I was mad that Liam Blackwood was on my plane, following us back to the supernatural kingdom. I was mad Azazel Mortar was hunting my single reason for living.

And I was mad that I continually failed at being Belle’s mate.

She didn’t deserve any of this. But to hell if I wasn’t going to try to make it all worth it.

Belle was dead...