Snowy Cozy Shifter Romances Series by Zora Black, Milly Taiden

I’m supposed to be filming melting glaciers. Not getting rescued by a seven-foot lumberbeast who growls when I breathe too loud. Cassian is part man, part myth, and 100% not interested in being discovered. Too bad my drone caught him shifting mid-snowstorm—and now the footage is worth enough to pay off my student loans, my therapist, and maybe a cabin in Aspen. Problem is, the second I hit record, the hunters start closing in. He says I should run. Instead, I stay... moreI’m supposed to be filming melting glaciers. Not getting rescued by a seven-foot lumberbeast who growls when I breathe too loud. Cassian is part man, part myth, and 100% not interested in being discovered. Too bad my drone caught him shifting mid-snowstorm—and now the footage is worth enough to pay off my student loans, my therapist, and maybe a cabin in Aspen. Problem is, the second I hit record, the hunters start closing in. He says I should run. Instead, I stay. Because under that silent glacial glare and those scarred forearms is a man who treats warmth like a luxury… and touches me like he’s starving. I didn’t come here looking for a mate. But the bear inside him just decided I’m his. And when Syndicate soldiers break down the door, he doesn’t shift. He fights for me as a man. Which is so much hotter than claws. Read on for fated mates, one-bed blizzards, scarred protector size gap, and a bear shifter who holds back the beast—until someone touches what’s his. HEA Guaranteed! less

I was supposed to observe him. Not… absorb him. Rafe Calderon is six feet of pure rage, broken mirrors, and bullshifter DNA. The Brotherhood calls him Toro. I call him a walking HR violation with cheekbones. He growls, I analyze. He threatens, I document. Then he shifts mid-therapy and pins a man to the wall with his horns. Now I’m bleeding light. Glowing in places that should not glow. And waking up to a tattooed monster guarding my bed like I’m the last piece of peace he’s ever seen... moreI was supposed to observe him. Not… absorb him. Rafe Calderon is six feet of pure rage, broken mirrors, and bullshifter DNA. The Brotherhood calls him Toro. I call him a walking HR violation with cheekbones. He growls, I analyze. He threatens, I document. Then he shifts mid-therapy and pins a man to the wall with his horns. Now I’m bleeding light. Glowing in places that should not glow. And waking up to a tattooed monster guarding my bed like I’m the last piece of peace he’s ever seen. Apparently I’m a latent witch. He’s a cursed killer. And together we’re the spark that could burn the Pact to the ground. We are not bonding. We are not soulmating. We are surviving. Skin to skin. Pulse to pulse. Some women journal through trauma. I tend to ride it out. Literally. Read on for bull shifters, bodyguard-level feral obsession, sealed fate magic, and a heroine who glows in all the wrong places. HEA Guaranteed! less