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Stepping into the den, I let the door close softly behind me.

“Bastard!” she spits.

I bite back a laugh as I lean against the door, half expecting her to throw herself against it, screaming bloody murder to get away from Saint.

For a moment, there’s only silence. Sounds like someone’s busy trying not to shit themselves.

A grin splits my face, the part of me still burning from her touch savoring this payback.

Saint wouldn’t hurt her, but letting her think he might? That I can live with. A little humility might do her some good.

You like taming wild things, princess? Have a fucking go.

18

Luna

I stare in disbelief at the door Cade just shut, my body frozen between fight and flight.

I’m trapped halfway between the kitchen and the den, directly in the line of sight of St. Michael. Wiping my sweaty hands on my torn skirt, I force myself to look at him properly.

He’s huge, with a muzzle that seems capable of snapping through bone. Muscles ripple beneath a gleaming black coat like waves under a dark sea. This isn’t just a dog—he’s the stuff of nightmares.

I resist the urge to scream for Cade. I’ll be damned if I give that smirking bastard one more thing to hold over me. Between the motorcycle orgasm and my graceless collision with the cupboard, I’ve hit my humiliation quota for the decade.

Time to start proving I deserve my reputation as a badass—assuming I don’t end up as Saint’s chew toy first. Although, for now, the dog hasn’t moved. He’s not even looking at me.

I swallow my panic and try his name. “Saint?”

His head swivels to me, and my breath hitches.Christ, that face. And those eyes—they’re blood-red, for fuck’s sake.My gaze skims over him, searching for a collar or leash, anything to suggest this monster is under control.

Nothing.Fantastic.

My pulse pounds in my ears as Saint’s gaze assesses me. I swallow again, my mind racing back to Cade’s earlier words. He’d promised the dog wouldn’t hurt me but then thrown in that lovely bit about not getting eaten.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, sadistic jerk.

I recall the way Cade spoke to Saint. There was something strange about his cadence, the way he stressed certain words.

And there’s also the small matter of how my name rolled off Cade’s tongue. He called me Luciana, and damn if it didn’t send a flutter through me—a ridiculous thought to dwell on, considering I’m seconds away from becoming dog snack.

Suddenly, something shifts in Saint’s demeanor. One moment, he’s perched like some medieval guardian, all coiled menace; the next, he’s stretched out on the floor, massive head resting on one paw.

Those red eyes still hold mine, but something’s changed in them. They’ve softened around the edges and almost . . . curious?

The steel band around my chest loosens slightly. Maybe this beast isn’t about to tear me limb from limb after all.

I wet my lips, searching for words. “Hey there, big guy,” I start, my voice shakier than I’d like. “You’re quite the specimen, aren’t you? Look at those muscles. Bet you work out more than most humans, huh?”

To my absolute horror, Saint rises to his feet and stalks toward me.

Oh no. Hell fucking no.

I scramble backward, and he immediately sits back down, head on paws, looking around like an oversized puppy waiting for treats.

That’s when it clicks. That jerk was pulling my legs. This isn’t some uncontrolled beast; Saint is trained to perfection and won’t hurt me any more than Cade would.

“On second thought, you’re not so scary,” I drawl, finding my rhythm now. “And that personality? You’re much more charming than Cade.” I can’t believe the words pouring out of my mouth, but holy hell if it isn’t working. That stump of a tail starts wagging, and I have to bite back a hysterical laugh.