The lighting in the room dimmed and the room cooled down. Bear lowered his arm. In front of him, in a glow of dazzling light, like a phoenix rising from its ashes, a woman dressed in ordinary jeans and a tank top stood with her hands on her hips and her feet shoulder width apart. The light highlighted her high cheekbones, smooth dark skin and shining platinum hair. Black eyes of the Underworld, eyes like his, studied him and her full red lips curled up with amusement. She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

His twin sister, Raven, had once told him his exterior was far prettier than who he was inside. She didn’t normally talk to him like that, but she’d been especially pissed off at him for something. He couldn’t remember what he’d done that particular time, but he deserved it. He always did. And despite her words being spoken in anger, she wasn’t wrong.

Bear never lacked female attention. Women enjoyed his company and he enjoyed theirs. He put minimal, if any, effort into seducing a woman. He didn’t need to. That wasn’t arrogance, but experience. He never had to work for anything. He certainly didn’t have to beg.

One mere second in this woman’s company, and he wanted to crawl on the floor and grovel before her.

And that was all kinds of wrong.

Bjorn motherfucking Crawford did not beg.

“Who...who the fuck are you?” He pointed at her. “And get off my coffee table.”