Midnight Soul (Fantasyland Series #5) by Kristen Ashley
Against his will, Noctorno Hawthorne, an undercover vice cop, finds himself embroiled in magic, mayhem and parallel universes. Too late, he meets an amazing woman only to find she’s destined for his identical twin in another world.
And things aren’t going real great there.
Noc is recruited to help save that world.
What he doesn’t know is his destined love resides there.
Franka Drakkar wears a mask. A mask she never takes off to protect herself in a world of malice, intrigue and danger.
When Franka meets Noc and he discovers her secrets, convinced she carries a midnight soul, having shielded herself from forming bonds with anyone, she struggles with accepting his tenderness and care.
When Noc meets Franka, over wine and whiskey, her mask slips and Noc knows it’s her—only her—and he has to find a way to get her to come home with him.
And then make her want to stay.
Excerpt Midnight Soul (Fantasyland Series #5) by Kristen Ashley
“I’m a member of a House, your House, may I remind you,” Franka’s father returned.
“You’re a monster,” Noc clipped.
The man turned his gaze to Noc. “And you’re a peasant who I’ve not given leave to speak to me.”
Noc opened his mouth but Frey got there before him.
“Are you unfamiliar with the Prince of Hawkvale?” he asked.
“I know of these secrets,” the asshole fired back, a sneer twisting his lips, “and this is not the heir to the throne of Hawkvale.” He indicated Noc with his arm. “This man is nothing.”
“This man saved you from slavery at the hands of Minerva and her minions,” Frey retorted. “This man has the ear of the Queen. The Princess. And The Drakkar. This man is twin to the heir of Hawkvale. This man is far from nothing.”
“You can pretty him up as much as you like, nephew, but his manner, his speech. He may look like a prince of our world, but he’s far from that. He’s simply common,” Franka’s father returned.
“Cease speaking,” Frey ordered.
“You are who you are, Frey, but I’m your uncle, your elder, and you never have leave to speak to me in that manner,” Franka’s father retorted.
“Cease…” Frey leaned forward and thundered, “speaking.”
That was all the asshole got out before Frey was across the room with his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat, his feel lifted two feet from the ground, and he was slammed into a shelving unit so hard, all the bottles swayed and four crashed to the ground.
“I said…cease speaking,” Frey repeated through clenched teeth.