Orc's First Valentine

Humans call it a Valentine.
We call it a Rite.
But this much is true…

it’s about to get magical.
She’s scared, half-wild, bleeding into the snow.
The second she crashes into our firelight, the clan claims fate.
I claim her.
She fights the bond. Tries to walk.

Until they take her.
Now I’m not reciting vows.
I’m ripping through their gates.
She doesn’t need a mate. She needs a weapon.

So I became one.
She calls me her first Valentine.
I call her my last everything.

Read on for blood-soaked rescue, sacred rites, forced proximity, and a warlord orc who was never supposed to love—until she knelt at the edge of his blade. HEA Guaranteed!