Page 68 of Catch a Tiger

All her threats were so delectable.

He watched as her canines extended, forcing the bones in her face to shift just a fraction to accommodate them. It made her look almost vulpine, and Mylo couldn’t believe it had never occurred to him she could be afoxdespite her golden eyes.

It explained why she was so much like Valentina and yet not.

Scavengers.

It was disgusting how he’d been so willfully blind.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he reminded her, the echo of his tiger in his voice.

For whatever reason, the sound of his tiger seemed to calm her down and she nodded, tears still spilling from those ancient eyes full ofso muchpain, and yet he couldn’t smell the salt of her tears. It was so bizarre when he could feel the wetness of them, the warmth of her skin, and the way her pulse fluttered against his grip.

“This alpha you like so much?” Mylo rubbed his nose against her cheek to mark her with more of his scent, licking the tears from her skin. “He’s a monster, kitten. I don’t want to fuck a corpse, so just fuckingwait.”

Her shiver could have been fear, or maybe revulsion, but the look in her eyes told him it was desire if he combined it with the way she was panting beneath him.

Mylo shouldn’t have crawled into bed with her. He shouldn’t have reassured Rune he’d be fine alone, but his tiger had threatened to destroy Rune if he got any closer. It had alarmed him enough he’d nearly begged the other tiger to leave.

Even Samuel wasn’t allowed back in until whateverthiswas settled between them and he knew his place—herplace.

Why they’d trusted him alone with her…it concerned him.

Rune wouldn’t want him to kill her, but Samuel…the other alpha might not care if he did, because if Mylo’s monster couldn’t fucking stand her, then this would never work out in the long run.

If she’d touched Rune like she’d touched him, he would have cut her hand from her body. Or at least, he’d thought so until he’d climbed in this fucking bed with her.

“I wasn’t born an alpha,” Mylo told her, not sure why he felt the need to explain, but maybe he’d feel less guilty if she understood why he’d rip his mate to pieces without meaning to. “They forced it to take root and bloom – gave me pieces that weren’t mine. Pieces I never wanted.”

Her shaky exhale still didn’t trigger him despite how fucking cold her breath was against the throbbing scar on his throat where they’d beheaded him once.

“Every time they put me back together, they used silver thread,” he murmured against her skin, feeling the heat in his body rise as the memories pounded against his skin and bones. “That's why I look likethis– Frankenstein’s monster.”

“Frankenstein’s monster was beautiful too,” she whispered.

Those words settled into the scar on his throat, and it was unnerving to feel the throbbing ease ever so slightly.

“That creature only became a monster because he wasn’t loved by his creator,” she reminded him, her lips brushing against his jaw. “All he wanted was to belong, and humanity rejected him – hisfatherrejected him. The reason he went after Frankenstein was because he lied. He’d promised his creation he would give him someone who could love a monster…someone who wasmadefor him, but it was all alie.”

Mylo pulled back, staring into those deep blue eyes. It didn’t bother him they weren’t glowing anymore, but her tears did. She wasn’t just giving him a pretty allegory he could relate to, but a truth—hertruth.

“Is that why you’re hunting angels?” Mylo asked, licking more tears from her face.

It fascinated him that he could taste the salt, even if he couldn’t smell it in the air – more proof she wasreal.

“Did you know Frankenstein’s monster has a name?” Vix held his gaze as she breathed in his scent like it somehow wasn’t hurting her. “But no one calls him byhisname. They only call him a monster or his father’s name – not his own.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve read the book, kitten.” Mylo tried to understand what he was seeing in her eyes, releasing her throat so he could brush his thumb over the gentle curve of her eyebrow like the shape of it would somehow help him figure it out.

“‘I ought to be thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed,’” she quoted so perfectly it made him wonder. “Angels weren’t made to love, Mylo. They were made to exact divine wrath, giving humanity the false promise of protection. When angels fall…”

She reached up and slid her thumb across the scar on his face again which still didn’t enrage his monster, and for the first time since he’d felt the desire to touch her, Mylo thought he might know why.

“Angels fall from grace when they learn to love,” she whispered, like it was a perilous secret. “Love reminds the angel they were born with free will, just like the rest of us.”

His kitten sighed and traced a scar on his cheek she shouldn’t be able to see, but she was a fox and Mylo fully understood then just how futile it was to hideanythingfrom her.

They’d been so foolish to think they had the upper hand – socareless.

---