Kris wasn't brand-new at the substitute gig, but it was still a little unsettling to walk into the office his first day at the new school, and have the secretary look him up and down and say, "Oh, you are going to be eaten alive."

Kris stopped taking slaves to his bed after his father died; he let them think it was grief, and then he let them think it was the burden of ruling, but he'd hated it all along.

"Megan!" Kris said. "He's my TA. I'm not going to—"

pirates!

Real Forever If: Excerpt:The main thing he'd been thinking, that whole last week, was that when it was over, he'd finally be able to breathe again. He didn't know what else could've been making him feel so weird, the awful tightness in his chest every time he was in the same room with Cook, the way his stomach just kept clenching up and jumping. Spellbound: in which cook gets his own prince.

Kris just laughed. "Do you get—we're talking twenty thousand pounds at least just to clear the debts?" "Yes," Anoop said. "There's a way." "Who do I have to kill?" Kris said, dryly. "Not kill," Anoop said. "Marry."

Wherein there is magic, daring rescues, accidental kissing, not-so-accidental kissing, Clive Davis is evil, and everyone lives happily ever after.

The school year is almost over, and with it Beth's time as alpha of the team pack. As if that weren't enough to deal with, Amanda's back, and she's acting weird. Beth can’t fix everything, but she can damn well try.

After Hobbs caught them in Rio, they didn't get ambushed, and they didn't get away. (AU diverging from Fast Five.)

“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?” “No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?” The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?” It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.

A different kind of race.

“Sit down,” the doctor said. He took blood, three vials filling up dark red. “Any medical conditions?” “No,” Dom said, and then his mouth kept going and said, “What if I want to volunteer for bonding?” The doctor peered at him over the glasses. “Do you want to volunteer for bonding?” It hung in the air. Dom felt it like a noose around his throat, squeezing. Twenty-five to life. “Yeah,” he said.

Morgana turned away from the high, barred window and rubbed her arms, chilled and bare. Arthur was sitting in the dirty straw at the very limit of his chains, which kept him a few inches too far away to touch Merlin's limp body. Outside they were putting up the stake.

“Yes, Lord Stark has come to town to help his mother bring out his eldest sister,” Tyrion said, pouring Jaime a glass of wine. “I understand he also plans to take his seat in the House of the Law. His uncle Edmure has been gathering time for him to give his maiden speech.” “Yes, yes,” Jaime said irritably. “That’s not what matters and you know it. Well?” Tyrion sighed. “He's nineteen, well-favored, and as far as I know, neither demented nor stupid. And not a hint of a betrothal. Sorry.”