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    Monster's Claim
    Monster's Claim
    Monster's Claim
    Ebook96 pages1 hour

    Monster's Claim

    By Winter Sloane

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Matthias: I’m untouchable. My family owns this city and I’m the monster in the basement. Men whisper my name in fear because I’m good at squeezing out all their secrets. The moment she fell into my trap, she lost the fight. Lara has nowhere else to go and no one to turn to— except me.

    Lara: Just when I thought I was free, I wasn't. I escaped one monster, only to fall into the hands of a more dangerous one. Except there’s so much more than meets the eye when it comes to Matthias. He’s broken, complicated, and I’m undeniably drawn to him. This city might call him evil, but he’ll always be my beautiful monster.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEvernight Publishing
    Release dateJan 24, 2019
    ISBN9781773398853
    Monster's Claim

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      Book preview

      Monster's Claim - Winter Sloane

      Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

      www.evernightpublishing.com

      Copyright© 2019 Winter Sloane

      ISBN: 978-1-77339-885-3

      Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

      Editor: Karyn White

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      DEDICATION

      To my readers, I hope you enjoy reading Matthias and Lara’s story as much as I loved writing it.

      MONSTER’S CLAIM

      Severin Family, 2

      Winter Sloane

      Copyright © 2019

      Chapter One

      How short do you want it, honey? the hairdresser asked, sass in his voice.

      She wished she could pull off his wild, rainbow-dyed hair, envying his confidence.

      Lara gazed at her reflection in the mirror, seeing the same awkward, curvy girl who’d never learned to accept or grow comfortable with herself. She reached for one tumbled lock of dark brown hair that fell below her shoulders, twisted her fingers into it, and gave it a tug. Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe for a few seconds.

      Bad memories resurfaced, like water trickling through a hole in the boat. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Lara remembered his leering face, his fingers tugging at her hair until her entire scalp felt like someone set it on fire.

      Breathe in, breathe out, Lara told herself.

      Honey? the hairdresser repeated, touching one shoulder.

      She jumped in her seat by reflex, still distrustful of anyone touching her. The hairdresser looked concerned, his gaze softening. Lara cleared her throat and saw her cheeks and neck turning red in the mirror.

      Until here, chin level, she said, then thought about it. No, I want it as short as a boy’s.

      You sure? You have such pretty hair. Such a waste, the hairdresser murmured.

      Her hair was the only part of herself she used to love. Used to, until she met Skip.

      I don’t, she began, unable to continue. Lara clutched at the armrests of her seat, digging her nails into the leather.

      She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing only herself. Pathetic. A victim. Lara didn’t want to be that anymore. She’d spent way too many weeks, locked inside her apartment, gorging on takeout. Days would pass. Her shields would weaken. She’d start to consider patching up with Skip. So weak, Lara, her mother would have said if she were alive.

      I don’t want any asshole using my hair to drag me down the stairs anymore, she whispered softly, not looking at anyone’s eyes.

      One step at a time, Lara told herself. She’d dig herself out of this miserable hole she put herself in since she met Skip and convince herself that she could do better.

      Wait here, the hairdresser said. I’ll get you some magazines to look at.

      Lara lifted her head. He wore a sympathetic smile, patting her arm.

      Thank you, she whispered.

      ****

      An hour later, Lara emerged from the salon, the weight on her shoulders gone. She felt like an entirely different person. She touched the turfs of carefully styled hair on her head. Who knew short hair would make her feel so incredibly light on her feet?

      Honey, the front door’s on the other side, came Dan, the hairdresser’s, voice from inside. But you can walk past that alleyway and be back on the street.

      How could she be so ditzy she’d forget where she was going? She could head back inside the salon, but she didn’t relish seeing the pitying looks of the other stylists and customers. Lara swore she didn’t blurt out the reason why she wanted short hair to everyone there.

      Lara looked around. She found herself in a small alleyway, the building walls sprayed with crass graffiti typical of neighborhoods in this part of the city. Her mother had taught her better, to be more aware of her surroundings.

      Sighing, she shoved her hands into her pockets and began walking out of the alleyway only to see a black, dinged up Mustang blocking her path. The driver must have decided he’d use this space as his personal parking lot.

      Hey, she shouted, waving at the car. Can you back your car out?

      The driver didn’t listen, only came out. She squinted at the figure, heart racing as she glimpsed the largest man she’d ever laid eyes on: a titan in a world of men, one who sported a hoodie and a torn pair of jeans.

      The hood hid his features, but Lara saw a flash of a wicked and curved scar over one cheek. Eyes black as coal looked back at her. There was something unnerving about them, and it took her a second to realize why. They lacked any trace of emotion.

      This felt surreal, like Lara had been thrust into one of those horrible horror survival shows.

      Danger bells rang in her head. She shoved one hand into her purse and curled her fingers over the pepper spray. Her mother taught her to bring one with her always, too, since they’d moved into a rougher neighborhood after her dad left them.

      She looked back at the end of the alleyway. Dead end. The salon. She could run back there.

      The huge, scary figure hadn’t moved an inch, didn’t speak a single word either.

      Um, it's fine. You can park your ugly-ass car here, she muttered under her breath, slowly backing away, toward the salon’s back door. Her right foot got caught in something. She looked down, seeing the discarded beer can. Too late.

      Lara stumbled, and the stranger moved, far faster than she imagined a man his size could move. She cried out, except big callused fingers closed over her mouth, muffling her screams. He broke her fall, his massive body impossibly dwarfing hers. He wrapped one steel-hard arm around her waist. Refusing to give up, she managed

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