The king is dead, but Havlands is still in turmoil, plagued by distrust amongst the conquered rebels, shifters, Fae, and humans. With the impending threat of the invading Oakgards' Fae, Elessia and her friends find themselves in a race to unite their fractured realm. But as Elessia grapples with the deadly implications of her newfound powers, she and Merrick discover a devastating truth: the price of her new gifts may force them to leave Havlands and their friends behind to face the looming war alone.

A runewitch on the run has only one option left: join forces with the sarcastic, unpleasantly gorgeous necromancer she loathes The man Thraga loved is dead, and her future is in shambles. When she's sentenced to the gallows for killing her lover's murderers, it's a relief more than anything… until, the night before her execution, a necromancer is thrown into her cell. Escaping with him is her only chance to bring Lark back to life—and also the start of all her troubles.

Still married. Those words change everything. Now my should-be ex-husband, Ramsey Stockton, the former pro football star turned felon and hero who left this town—and me—behind years ago, is at my door offering me a deal with the devil. If I let him stay and play his wife again for ninety days, he’ll give me a quiet divorce and his family ranch—the one my inn is on. When I scoff at the idea, he offers a million-dollar bonus to help my business float through this rough patch, but only if I’m his.

My name is Rosa Capelli. I’m a vampire hunter with a side hustle in snarky comments, and my mission is simple: Protect the innocent from the predators that prowl among them. I kill monsters for a living, and I love my job. At least I did until he walked into my life—tall, dark, handsome…and very, very dead. He should be my sworn enemy. So why do I feel like he’s my soulmate, my lover, and my savior all wrapped up in one sinful package? Luca da Firenze is completely wrong for me. He’s too bossy, too powerful, too…deceased.

Half-Fae Elessia could have had everything. Literally. Since her magic allows her to compel anyone to do her bidding by merely looking into their eyes, the world was at her feet. But after a tragic accident, she is thrown into the Fae king's dungeons and forced to swear a blood oath to him, binding her to his service. Five years later, she's living amongst humans in Ellow and has created a life for herself—as much as she can with the king's promise to call in his debt looming over her.

It's been months since the day we stood above that empty grave that stunk of burnt flesh and secrets. All of us were dressed to the nines, one of us wearing a wedding dress, a day that was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure. It marked the bitter end of our vengeance. We have done things that have marked our souls for eternity. But before we get there, we have to go back. Back to where it all started. The place I could find in my sleep.

In the dark underbelly of the mob, Tristan Caine has been an anomaly. As the only non-blooded member in the high circle of the Tenebrae Outfit, he is an enigma to all. His skills are unparalleled, his morality is questionable, and his motives are unknown. He is lethal and he knows it. As does Morana Vitalio, the genius extraordinaire daughter of the rival family. What Caine does with weapons, Morana does with computers. When a twenty-year-old mystery resurfaces, Morana infiltrates Caine's house, intent on killing him, unaware of a tie that binds them together.

Nineteen years ago, I was plucked from the heart of a bloody massacre that spared nobody else. Small. Fragile. An enigma. Now ward to a powerful High Master who knows too much and says too little, I lead a simple life, never straying from the confines of an imaginary line I've drawn around the castle grounds.

Perched between branches and shadows, we watch, we scheme, fighting for a kingdom forgotten and forlorn. Until we rip her away with our claws, our prisoner, our pawn, our plaything. She’s innocent and pure, fragile and helpless…but oh so guilty by blood. She calls us beasts, wicked and evil, vicious and cruel. We are all that and worse. One of us offers her shelter beneath his wings, whispering promises of pleasure, seeking redemption. The other longs to shatter her into a million pieces, whispering promises of pain, seeking revenge.

Marrying the 70-something head of the Cosa Nostra to save my father is the only good deed I’ve ever done. I’m burning and bitter under the fake smile and tight dresses, but I was keeping it together. Was. Until my fiancé’s nephew turns up to dinner uninvited. Angelo "Vicious" Visconti. A beautiful monster with cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. They say I shouldn’t be scared of him, because nine years ago, he went straight. He’s barely a Made Man anymore. But I say, he’s the most dangerous Visconti of all.