Claws. Long, filthy, and dangerously sharp.
They’re the first thing Bella sees after what’s been the worst day of her life. Careful not to alert her captor to her conscious state, she glances past the matted fur-covered arms and expanse of chest to the face. If something surrounded by tangled black rattails can be called a face.
Perhaps if Bella were the quintessential Beauty—gorgeous, kindhearted, and self-sacrificing—she might have a fighting chance in transforming this monster into a man. But she’s never been the toad-kissing kind. Obsessed with landing a wealthy nobleman and escaping her humdrum life, she will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. Which is precisely what landed her here, at the mercy of the Beast.