PIXIE LITTLE LIAR: Blackhaven Manor, Book 5
Paranormal M/M Romance
40k+ Words
40k+ Words
There’s a heaviness to the air, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of Emrys Whitehill’s neck stand on end. Something is going to happen. Something big. Something that will change him forever. Despite his powers of precognition, however, a hellhound walking into the hotel to arrest him for a crime he didn’t commit is the one scenario he never saw coming.
As a seasoned bounty hunter, Cyrus Rathborne thought he had experienced it all, but realizing his most recent target is his mate throws him completely off his game. While he can’t deny the connection, Emrys is wanted for the murder of a royal, and he won’t let those big innocent eyes deter him from doing what is right. Yet, the more he gets to know the sweet pixie, the harder it is to shake the feeling that the guy might actually be telling the truth.
He should have trusted his instincts.
It soon becomes clear that someone is determined to make Emrys disappear—permanently—and the only thing standing in their way is him. Transforming from hunter to protector, Cyrus will risk everything to keep his mate safe, because what started as just another job is now the one mission he can’t afford to fail.
As a seasoned bounty hunter, Cyrus Rathborne thought he had experienced it all, but realizing his most recent target is his mate throws him completely off his game. While he can’t deny the connection, Emrys is wanted for the murder of a royal, and he won’t let those big innocent eyes deter him from doing what is right. Yet, the more he gets to know the sweet pixie, the harder it is to shake the feeling that the guy might actually be telling the truth.
He should have trusted his instincts.
It soon becomes clear that someone is determined to make Emrys disappear—permanently—and the only thing standing in their way is him. Transforming from hunter to protector, Cyrus will risk everything to keep his mate safe, because what started as just another job is now the one mission he can’t afford to fail.
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EXCERPT
“Enough.” Emrys didn’t speak loudly, but everyone present turned to stare at him. Once he had their attention, he pushed his chin-length hair back from his face and nodded a couple of times. “I appreciate that you want to protect me, but let’s be real for a second. Nothing you say is going to change anything.” His gaze flickered to Cyrus, his resolve manifesting piece by visual piece. “I’m assuming there’s evidence against me, and you didn’t just pull my name out of a hat.”
Fuck, Cyrus hated this, but his mate was right. Nothing anyone said would change the facts. “There is evidence.”
Emrys regarded him for another moment, then nodded again. “I’ll go with you.”
“What?” Kol shouted. “Em, that’s a really bad idea.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” the other male—Simon—added.
“You don’t have to go,” Skye said, still calm and collected.
Emrys gave her a sad smile. “Thanks, but I think I do. I know I didn’t kill anyone, and the best way to prove that is to just cooperate.” With only the smallest amount of hesitancy, he strode around the counter, coming to a stop mere inches from Cyrus. “Besides, my mate won’t let anything happen to me.”
It was naïve, far too trusting, and also absolutely fucking correct. No one would lay a hand on his mate, except for maybe him. Preferably both hands. Without any barriers between them like those preppy white chinos that hugged Emrys’ ass like a second skin.
Cyrus bit back a groan. Gods, he was so screwed.
“Okay.” Emrys bobbed his head a couple of times, then pushed his wrists together before offering his hands up to him. “Do you, uh, need to restrain me or something?”
That really shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but his cock apparently hadn’t gotten the message. Down boy.
“No, I’m not going to restrain you.” Gently, he curled his fingers around Emrys’ wrists and pushed his hands back down to his sides.
“Oh, okay.” An adorable frown pulled at his lips. “Sorry. I’ve never been a suspect before. I don’t really know how this works.” He held his hands up again. “Are you sure you don’t want to tie me up?”
Fuuuck.
Cyrus bit back another groan when his dick jerked against his zipper. Gods, it was going to be a long drive back to New Orleans.
Fuck, Cyrus hated this, but his mate was right. Nothing anyone said would change the facts. “There is evidence.”
Emrys regarded him for another moment, then nodded again. “I’ll go with you.”
“What?” Kol shouted. “Em, that’s a really bad idea.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” the other male—Simon—added.
“You don’t have to go,” Skye said, still calm and collected.
Emrys gave her a sad smile. “Thanks, but I think I do. I know I didn’t kill anyone, and the best way to prove that is to just cooperate.” With only the smallest amount of hesitancy, he strode around the counter, coming to a stop mere inches from Cyrus. “Besides, my mate won’t let anything happen to me.”
It was naïve, far too trusting, and also absolutely fucking correct. No one would lay a hand on his mate, except for maybe him. Preferably both hands. Without any barriers between them like those preppy white chinos that hugged Emrys’ ass like a second skin.
Cyrus bit back a groan. Gods, he was so screwed.
“Okay.” Emrys bobbed his head a couple of times, then pushed his wrists together before offering his hands up to him. “Do you, uh, need to restrain me or something?”
That really shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but his cock apparently hadn’t gotten the message. Down boy.
“No, I’m not going to restrain you.” Gently, he curled his fingers around Emrys’ wrists and pushed his hands back down to his sides.
“Oh, okay.” An adorable frown pulled at his lips. “Sorry. I’ve never been a suspect before. I don’t really know how this works.” He held his hands up again. “Are you sure you don’t want to tie me up?”
Fuuuck.
Cyrus bit back another groan when his dick jerked against his zipper. Gods, it was going to be a long drive back to New Orleans.