Thing — Stasia Black

Being the angel of death's a lonely gig, and Thing's been alone all his life, even when he wasn't chained to a dungeon wall half-mad for two centuries.He's not like his brothers.He's come to prefer his solitude. Or so he thinks.Because when a fierce woman with covered in blood comes crashing through the forest into his many arms, he begins to wonder if he might just want a consort of his very own...