His body has yet to be recovered, but only because I burned him alive after Lenny made him a eunuch.
The press cared far less about either of the deaths than we anticipated; in fact, most of the controversy came when Mrs. Primrose put the compound up for sale and hightailed it back to Savannah, leaving her three kids behind without a word.
Since I’d already been there, done that, I suggested Lenny explore her newfound freedom.
After weeks of watching her sob into her pillow every night, sometimes only showering when I picked her up and made her, and an endless stream of Elena or her brothers stopping by to keep her company, she finally went to therapy.
A few weeks later, she’d enrolled in some online courses for an interior design program, stating that she wanted to try and combine her love of shopping with that of art.
Which is why I’m standing in our spare bedroom building a bloody bookshelf instead of fucking her on the couch downstairs, or on the kitchen island, or on the back porch in celebration of my mum finally moving out.
She’d technically already moved to a cottage on the south side of the island some months ago, but she retrieved the last of her things from the crawlspace today.
Things between us aren’t what she was probably hoping for, but I am trying, at least. It’s more than I think she deserves, but I’m limited on family.
And if, by some bloody miracle, Lenny decides she ever wants to bear my children, I think they deserve to have a grandmother in their lives, even if she couldn’t be the mother in mine when I needed her.
Still, my intention upon returning from my pub today was to christen as many surfaces in the house as possible in celebration of our official engagement.
Alistair, surprisingly, was the one to goad me into doing it. He’s become something of a sap over the last few months, and I dare say I know why, although he’s yet to admit it.
I won’t push him on it. We’re still working on our relationship, too.
The diamond ring on Lenny’s finger glitters in the bedroom light, and I reach out, grabbing her wrist and tugging her into me.
My lips trail up the side of her neck, and she sighs, leaning into the touch. “Mm,” she moans, tilting her head to give me better access. I bite down on her pulse, making her jolt, and then bring my hand up to push aside the raggedy shirt she has on.
Though slightly faded, the W etched into her skin is still plainly visible, and each time I see it, I’m filled with a primal haze of lust.
It’s insane, sure, but I love knowing that if anyone ever touches her again, they’ll know who they’re fucking with.
“All right,” she says, reaching up to tangle her fingers in my hair. “We can take a break, I guess.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” In seconds, I have her naked and writhing on the floor, my tongue spearing between her thighs.
She trembles violently, and as I look up at her, I swear that I’ve never seen anything more bloody beautiful.
Devastatingly alluring and completely terrifying, Lenny Primrose (soon-to-be Wolfe) could easily start another war in her lifetime.
And I would be at the helm of the very first ship, leading the charge into battle.
Simply because she’s mine.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
If you enjoyed Jonas and Lenny’s story, please consider leaving a review!
Have theories on who book four is about? Be on the lookout for the announcement in the coming weeks!
Find out in my Facebook reader group first
Join Sav’s Suckers
Or join my mailing list to stay up to date!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Keeping it short and sweet this time around, because honestly… six books in, and the support behind the scenes hasn’t changed all that much. Hopefully you all know how much I appreciate you in general, but if not, here… we… go:
To my family: thank you for all the love, laughter, and dysfunction, and for supporting me even though you don’t read these books. Thank you, also, for not reading them, so that I never have to explain to you why I know about semen allergies or the exact steps to DIY branding.
To Emily: I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you for inspiring me, keeping me sane, and sending Tik Toks even though I continually forget to reply to them. I would reference the Kanye Era, but that hasn’t exactly aged well, so I’ll just leave it at this: love you the most.
To Jackie, Cat, Ellie, and Rosa: you guys are the best behind-the-scenes team a girl could ask for. Thank you for making my books pretty on the inside and out, and for trying to keep my life on track.
To my Sirens and the ARC ladies: thank you so much for being the OG hype teams, and for all you do to promote my books. I literally couldn’t do any of this without you, and I will forever be honored that you love my work enough to want to shout it from the online rooftops.
To the bloggers, reviewers, silent readers, and everything in between: thank you for making the Monsters & Muses series such a success so far. Since publishing Promises and Pomegranates, my life has changed so drastically, and it’s all because of you.
To my boys Byron and Poe: thank you for existing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sav R. Miller is an international bestselling author of dark and contemporary romance.
She prefers the villains in most stories, and thinks everyone deserves happily-ever-after.
Currently, Sav lives in central Kentucky with two pups, Lord Byron and Poe. She loves sitcoms, silence, and sardonic humor.
ALSO BY SAV R. MILLER
King’s Trace Antiheroes Series
Sweet Surrender (Book One)
Sweet Solitude (Book Two)
Sweet Sacrifice (Book Three)
Monsters & Muses Series
Promises and Pomegranates
Vipers and Virtuosos
Standalones
Be Still My Heart