Claimed By the War Brute

She’s not my captive.
She’s my reward.

The humans dropped her when the bullets started flying—left her bleeding in the wreckage, screaming into smoke.
I found her there. Small. Defiant. Mine.
She fights me with every breath.
Tries to stab me with a blade I gave her.
Spits my name like a curse.
It makes me hard.
She thinks this is war.
But I’m not her enemy.
I’m her mate.
I don’t need her love.
Just her obedience. Her heat. Her breath on my name when she finally begs.
And if the rest of her species wants her back?
They’ll need a new god.
She broke my bone knife trying to escape.
So I made her a prettier one. Out of silver.
And wore it to her claiming.

Read on for brutal warlords, unwilling rescues, mating marks that burn, and a heroine who learns the hard way that the monster doesn’t lose interest — he just waits for her to break. HEA Guaranteed!