"She was stolen from her cradle to rot in the gutter. Now, she’s back with a stiletto in her teeth—and a crown waiting on the throne of the dead." Stolen at age five, Scarlett Thorne survived the brutal underworld by learning one golden rule: never show them where it hurts, bleed them dry instead. When she returns to high society to reclaim her stolen birthright, she expects to face the arrogant ex-fiancé who abandoned her and the fake sister who usurped her life. She didn't expect Liam Vance. The Supremo Alfa of the Night’s Shadow Pack—known to the world as the Butcher King—is a cold, terrifying monster who rules through absolute fear. But the moment his ice-blue eyes lock onto Scarlett’s defiant, emerald-green gaze, a volatile, hyper-aware obsession is ignited. He wants to lock her in a golden cage to keep her safe; she wants to burn his entire empire down. Amidst a high-stakes global conspiracy, betrayals from trusted bloodlines, and a slow-burning, breathless war of wills, these two apex predators must decide whether to destroy each other—or rule the world together. Enemies to lovers. Fated mates. High-heat slow burn. A ruthless alpha who forgets how to breathe without her, and a vengeance queen who takes no prisoners.

After drowning in her own world, Nerine wakes inside a fantasy novel as a silver-tailed siren destined to die—and drive three monsters mad with grief. There is Kael, the savage abyssal merman who hunts her across the sea. Morcant, the tentacled witch who locks her inside a house with no escape. And Aurelius, the cursed prince whose gentle smile hides a second, murderous soul. All three remember the woman who once wore Nerine’s face. All three believe she belongs to them. But Nerine refuses to become their dead lover, their captive, or another sacrifice to the story. If these monsters want her, they must learn the difference between possession and devotion—because this time, the doomed siren intends to survive. One siren. Three obsessed monsters. And a tragic ending she refuses to obey.

My name is Rowan Hale. For six years, the contract boards called me Nocturne. I ranked first often enough that men twice my age stopped using my name and started using prayers. Then I retired. Not from guilt. Guilt requires free time, and professional murder has terrible hours. I retired after finding a better job.