Ten years ago I crossed the line with my younger brother’s best friend. I knew she was in love with me, and I couldn’t resist her. River Adams gave me her innocence on her 18th birthday. I broke her in return and made her hate me. I thought walking away from her would be easy, but I never expected to come face-to-face with everything I gave up. Thanks to a stipulation in my dad’s will, she’s back and we have to live together. Me. Her. My brother Walker, who has carried a torch for her since they were kids. And, how could I forget, Bishop, the ranch hand who can’t keep his eyes off her?

One heroic act damned me for eternity. With a name like Tor, I should have been a hero, just like my father and twin. Turns out I’m not. Not even close. Instead I’m the very thing we hunted. A depraved monster. I thought there was no escaping the curse. No hope for a future. And then I met my mate in the unlikeliest of places: Blackwood Asylum. A place for criminals. Power-hungry madmen. Supernatural outcasts. And her, the curvaceous writer who sees ghosts.

Roslyn Blackthorne is dead. Technically. I faked my death to get out of a loveless marriage, but that was only half the battle. To ensure my vampire duke can never find me, I have to run far and fast enough so he can’t catch me. Because if he does, it’s over. Not just my life—for real this time—but my entire family’s.

They make me feel like I belong for the first time since my parents were murdered. And when they touch me, my whole world sparks to flame. But they have enemies. Those who would give anything to harm what they hold dear. And while they’ll do whatever it takes to keep me safe, sometimes falling in love will put you right in the line of fire.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?