A swoony, suspenseful small-town romance from USA Today bestselling author Catherine Cowles...
Fractured Sky, a moving and passionate, small-town contemporary romance from USA Today bestselling author Catherine Cowles, is out now!
Damaged. Broken. Destroyed. I’ve heard it all. A single moment of trusting the wrong person shattered my life into pieces, and my family has never looked at me the same. It’s impossible to convince them that I’m anything more than the broken girl they rescued all those years ago.
Until I meet him.
Ramsey’s surly demeanor and menacing scowl scare most of the world away. But not me. Not when I’ve seen his gentle hands soothe an abused colt or comfort a terrified mare.
And when I finally get up the courage to strike out on my own, Ramsey’s there. Roommates felt like such a safe proposition until Ramsey’s lingering touches and wicked smile light a fire in me I don’t think will ever be extinguished. And he feels it, too…
But just as my new life begins to take root, an evil from my past emerges from the shadows, casting a darkness on my newfound freedom. And this time, they won’t settle for pieces of me. They want everything…
“Live with you?” she squeaked. “We’ve only ever spoken twice.”
My world tilted sideways at that truth. I didn’t let people I didn’t truly know onto my property, let alone invite them to live there. But I kept right on talking. “I’ve got a guest cabin.”
I’d let one other person live there—a friend of someone I’d known from prison. It was a favor I’d only done for the brother who’d watched my back in that hellhole. But Boden had moved out months ago into some fancy lodge with his fiancée, Laiken. The guest cabin was just sitting empty.
I saw Shiloh turn the idea over in her mind. “I don’t want to make you do that. I know you don’t like people on your property.”
I hated it. But Shiloh wasn’t people. She was something else altogether. The truth was, she’d become a touchstone over the last several years. And I had a burning urge to help. To protect. Maybe because I knew how it felt to believe there was no way out. Maybe because I saw those wings of hers that had been so badly clipped. The offer might’ve been reckless, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
About Catherine Cowles:
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
Shattered Sea, a sexy, suspenseful, small town romance from USA Today bestselling author Catherine Cowles, is out now!
I’ve known every kind of pain. Of the heart. Of the body. Of the soul. All I want now is the freedom that comes from making my art.
The last thing I expected was Hollywood royalty to waltz into my gallery in a small town in the middle of nowhere and see me.
A man like Boden Cavanaugh shouldn’t understand me. Shouldn’t be able to soothe my most ragged edges. Even worse, he makes me want the one thing I can’t have. Him.
All it takes is one spark, and friendship catches flame. But as our attraction burns bright, there are forces desperate to send us back into the darkness. And they’ve already killed before…
Keep reading for a look inside Shattered Sea!
The way Boden’s muscles tightened told me the little he’d shared was only the tip of the iceberg. That tension called to me, and I reached out, kneading the flesh along his shoulders. His head fell to my own shoulder, and he sighed. “I’ll only let you do that forever.”
I chuckled. “I do have the magic touch.”
“You could be making millions with those hands.”
“I only use them on very special recipients. They aren’t for sale.”
Boden straightened, but as he did, he came closer. Our faces were close. Lips just a breath away. The urge to lean forward, to know what he felt like, tasted like, was strong. Boden’s hand skated up my arm to my neck to tangle in my hair.
I knew that Boden Cavanaugh was more than dangerous. But like a moth to a flame, I kept getting closer.
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
"Everything amazing about a small town romance...family, secrets, old wounds, unforgettable connections, plus the sweetest love story that had my heart soaring. An absolute must read! Addie and Beckett were magic together!"–A.L. Jackson New York Times Bestselling Author
Hidden Waters, an all-new touching and heartfelt friends to lovers, small-town romance from bestselling author Catherine Cowles, is now available!
My family tried to break me. But, somehow, I made it out alive, even though the wounds from that survival are forever carved into my bones. Now, my only wish is for…normal. To know what it’s like to have friends, a job, a home.
The last thing I want is for my new roommate to see the scars I’m so desperate to keep hidden, especially not the ruggedly handsome man who steals my breath and sends my heart into overdrive.
But something tells me that Beckett has demons, too. I see it in the shadows haunting his gorgeous eyes and the way he looks at me with gentle understanding.
As our unlikely friendship becomes so much more, forces from my life slink out of the shadows. And we could both lose everything we’ve fought so hard for—down to our very last breaths…
“I’m getting it. I’m making that beautiful life now. And I’ll appreciate it so much more because of what I’ve been through.”
It wasn’t enough for me. It never would be. But I admired how Addie could view her past. I struggled not to hold her too tightly. The urge to burn the world down around me was too strong. I wasn’t good the way Addie was. I still wanted to start with Allen.
“Beckett,” she whispered against my ear. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt. The skin is ugly but—”
I reared back. “Nothing about you is ugly.”
Her cheeks flamed. “It is. It’s just facts. I don’t care. There are so many more important things.”
“Show me.” I was already climbing to my feet.
“W-what?”
“Show me.”
Addie stood shakily. “I don’t want you to see it.”
My gaze locked with hers. I poured everything I was feeling into that one look. “Please.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, searching my face for something. Then she nodded and turned around. Slowly, so painfully slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. When she was done, she simply stood there, not lowering the shirt. Her ribs expanded and contracted in ragged breaths. Then she let the fabric fall to the floor.
Angry slashes crisscrossed her back. They were varying tones, shapes, and depths. In that moment, I knew Allen had done this to her over and over. My hands fisted so tightly I was in danger of breaking a knuckle.
I moved closer and then sank to my knees again. “It’s just me.” My hands went to Addie’s hips. She gave a slight jolt. I stilled. “You okay?” She nodded, the movement jerky, her breaths ragged. I slowly swept my thumb across a patch of raised skin. Then I bent forward, my lips going to the worst of the scars. I ghosted them over the flesh that had been torn apart but had come back together stronger than it had been before.
“Beauty in the strength that carried you through. Beauty in how you refused to be broken. Beauty that you never let yourself become cruel like him. Addie, there isn’t a thing about you that isn’t beautiful.”
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
—Samantha Young, New York Times bestselling author
Falling Embers, an all-new must read moving romance from Catherine Cowles, is available now!
I’ve loved Calder Cruz from the moment he taught me how to fly. Racing down a mountain and giving me the release I so desperately needed. My understanding. My safe space.
Hadley has fought for a life of her own ever since her sister’s kidnapping. When she was drowning in expectations and family pressures, Calder was always the one who understood her.
Until one night changed it all. From best friends to strangers in a single breath.
She’s like a fire that lives inside me. Even when I thought it was all burned out, there were still embers that lived in my bones.
Calder knows what it’s like to almost lose the people he loves most. He’ll never make that kind of mistake again. Working at the fire station and taking care of his daughters are the only things he needs.
All it takes is a single moment to make him realize how wrong he is. A split second of coming close to losing the woman he has always loved.
But as long-buried embers light anew, there are those who lurk in the shadows. And they’ll do whatever it takes to extinguish that flame for good…
Heat flared to life in Hadley’s eyes, a mix of anger and frustration. She whipped her shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pale pink lacy bra. I wasn’t blind. I knew that Hadley had curves, that she was beautiful, but the sight in front of me had my mouth going dry. I fought the urge to lean in closer.
“Cat got your tongue?”
I scowled at Hadley through the mirror. “Took me by surprise is all.”
“Sure.”
I returned my focus to her back, cleaning each scrape meticulously. “Hold your shirt to your chest?”
“Too much boobage on display for you?”
I chuckled, the sound a little rougher than normal. “I need to unhook your bra. That might be too much boobage for you.”
Hadley rolled her eyes but held her t-shirt to her chest, keeping her bra in place. I unhooked the little tines, letting it fall open. I cleaned the rest of the gashes and moved for the antibiotic ointment. As gently as possible I spread it over the worst of her scrapes.
Hadley trembled slightly.
“Did that hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.”
But her breathing was more shallow than usual. Her gaze focused on the counter in front of her. Apparently I wasn’t the only one affected.
About Catherine Cowles:
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
Laura Kaye is returning to her BDSM BLASPHEMY Series this summer! Now is the perfect time to start the series with a free series starter!
A Note From Laura:
Dear Readers, Welcome to the world of Blasphemy, a BDSM club filled with steamy romance, hawt sex, found family, and alpha Doms just waiting to steal your heart! The Blasphemy series is about the 12 Masters of the club, and I invite you to watch them fall one by one in the six existing books in the series and the two new ones to come in 2022! You can try the first book, Bound to Submit, for free on all retailers. I hope you enjoy! xx Laura Kaye
Laura Kaye is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of over 40 books in contemporary romance and romantic suspense and has sold more than one million books in the U.S. alone. Laura grew up amid family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses, cementing her life-long fascination with storytelling and the supernatural. A former college history professor, Laura also writes bestselling historical women's fiction as Laura Kamoie. Laura lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.
"Small town romance at its best! Absolutely unputdownable. Cowles grabs you from page one and doesn’t let you go. A brilliant tale packed with heat and heart."
—Adriana Locke USA Today bestselling author
Tattered Stars, an all new enemies to lovers small town romance and first book in the Tattered & Torn series from bestselling author Catherine Cowles is available now!
Be brave. Just for sixty seconds. Twenty breaths.
One night changed them both forever.
Their lives shattered, beyond repair, with jagged edges and pieces askew.
Now, Everly has a chance to make things right. To bring healing to the place where everything fell apart. But it means facing the family her father almost destroyed, and the boy with the dark eyes—now grown—who still haunts her dreams.
Just one breath away from having your life ripped out from under you.
The last thing Hayes wants is another reminder of all the ways he failed sixteen years ago. When Everly drives back into Wolf Gap, his only mission is to get her to leave. For his family’s sake, and for his own, those demons need to stay buried for good.
But everything about this woman is a surprise, from her spine of steel to the sanctuary she hopes to create with the land her mother left behind. And Hayes is powerless to stay away.
As a careful friendship sparks into something more, someone watches. And they’ll do anything to tear it all apart…
I pressed on the accelerator to make it past the final rise, and as I did, the property came into view. My heart seemed to take up acrobatics in my chest, flipping and tumbling, expanding and contracting. My hands gripped the wheel harder as my foot eased off the gas.
The house itself was in worse shape than I’d expected. One of the walls had a gaping hole in it. But the small guest cabin didn’t look too worse for wear. The cottage had been in my mom’s family for generations, but the house had been my father’s construction after they married. She hadn’t stayed long after he went to prison, choosing to move us down to the flats to live on some land my uncle owned.
While the generations-old construction of the cabin had held steady, the barn and paddocks hadn’t fared nearly as well. The entire structure seemed to lean to one side, and a storm had taken down more than half of the fencing. My back hurt just looking at all the work that needed to be done.
I sighed and pulled to a stop in front of the cabin, releasing my hold on the wheel. My phone dinged, and I sent up a mental thank you to the gods of technology that it seemed I had service up here.
Shay: Are you there yet? Text me the second you arrive.
I smiled down at my phone, feeling a little less alone, knowing that I had someone who would drop anything to have my back.
Me: Just pulled up outside. Cabin looks okay. The house and barn are a disaster.
Shay: Are you sure you don’t want Brody and me to come help you get settled? We can be there in two days.
God, I was lucky to have her as a friend, but I wasn’t ready to open all the doors I’d need to if they came to stay. There were too many skeletons I didn’t want to let out into the light.
Me: Thank you, but I’ve got this. Let me get settled, and then you can come for a visit.
Shay: I don’t like that you’re there all alone.
Me: I won’t be alone for long.
Soon, I would have this place crawling with animals. It had always been my dream to build a home for neglected or abused animals of any kind. A sanctuary. It was simply coming more quickly than expected.
I turned off my SUV, rolled down the windows, and the pine air swept in. It was different than any other type, the Ponderosa pines. And as it filled me, tears sprang to my eyes. I’d missed this, more than I’d realized.
I leaned back in my seat and pulled out my letter.
Dearest Everly,
I know much of this will come a day late and more than a dollar short, but better that than not at all. Even once the doctors told me the cancer had a hold, I couldn’t bring myself to call you, to tell you these things face-to-face as I should’ve. So, I’ll take the coward’s way out. That won’t be anything new. There were so many times I should’ve stood up but didn’t.
But that’s not you. You’ve always been the bravest person I’ve ever known. Even before that night. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t—I’m so proud of you, beautiful girl. You made yourself into this amazing warrior all on your own, without any help from your dad or me.
I wish I had a chance to truly see you shine now. That’s the price for my sins. To miss all of your beauty and light shining on this world.
This should’ve come so long ago, but I’m sorry. For not being there for you. For not getting your father the help he needed. For not taking you and your siblings away when things went sideways. I’m so very sorry that I wasn’t stronger. That I wasn’t more like you.
I don’t have much I can give you, but the land’s still mine. I know a lot of pain’s been poured into the dirt there, but there was good once, too. When I spent summers there with your grandparents. As your father and I made it our home. The babies that grew there. The animals we raised.
Maybe you can find your good there, too.
I understand if you can’t. Or don’t want to. But I know if one person is strong enough to do it…it’s you.
I love you forever and always, my little warrior.
Mom
A single tear splashed onto the page. She’d been gone before I even knew she was sick. Buried before I even knew she was gone. My family hadn’t wanted me there. Not my brother—who I was sure still blamed me for everything—my uncle, or any other vast network of relatives still rooted in the area.
To them, I was the enemy, the outsider. And now, I’d returned. The only one who might be happy to see me was my cousin, Addie, but I wasn’t even sure about that. We hadn’t spoken since I’d left. All of my letters came back, marked as Return to Sender in her father’s handwriting.
My mother thought I was a warrior, and I hoped she was right. I would need all my armor if I was going to face them again. Because no one would be happy that I was here. And they’d be downright livid when they learned I was staying.
About Catherine Cowles:
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
I adore the fake relationship trope and Catherine Cowles knocked this one out of the park! Emotional, heart-warming, steamy and suspenseful—Anna and Mason’s story has it all!— Samantha Young, New York Times bestselling author
Beautifully Broken Redemption, an emotional marriage of convenience romance filled with suspense from Catherine Cowles, is out now!
She’s hiding secrets.
For Anna, keeping her deepest scars hidden from the world has always been a necessity—from the bruises of her childhood to the mistake that nearly cost her everything. To keep herself safe, she must keep everyone around her at a distance—especially the man who has tempted her since the moment they met.
His demons are taunting him.
Mason has done his best to bury the past by achieving more than he ever thought possible. But even with all of his success, his life feels empty.
When tragedy strikes, Anna is left fighting to protect the only family she has left. And Mason will do anything to keep her and her loved ones safe—even if that means the ring of wedding bells.
But as a new spark ignites between them, someone is watching.
And they’ll do whatever it takes to snuff out that light for good.
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
“One of the best fantasy worlds I have ever read.”
-- Carrie Ann Ryan, New York Times bestselling author
A Shadow in the Ember, the brand new fantasy romance set in the Blood and Ash world from New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout is available now!
#1 New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout returns with book one of the all-new, compelling Flesh and Fire series—set in the beloved Blood and Ash world.
Born shrouded in the veil of the Primals, a Maiden as the Fates promised, Seraphena Mierel’s future has never been hers. Chosen before birth to uphold the desperate deal her ancestor struck to save his people, Sera must leave behind her life and offer herself to the Primal of Death as his Consort.
However, Sera’s real destiny is the most closely guarded secret in all of Lasania—she’s not the well protected Maiden but an assassin with one mission—one target. Make the Primal of Death fall in love, become his weakness, and then…end him. If she fails, she dooms her kingdom to a slow demise at the hands of the Rot.
Sera has always known what she is. Chosen. Consort. Assassin. Weapon. A specter never fully formed yet drenched in blood. A monster. Until him. Until the Primal of Death’s unexpected words and deeds chase away the darkness gathering inside her. And his seductive touch ignites a passion she’s never allowed herself to feel and cannot feel for him. But Sera has never had a choice. Either way, her life is forfeit—it always has been, as she has been forever touched by Life and Death.
She reached back, curling her arm through mine. The unexpected contact caused me to flinch, and I was suddenly grateful for the veil. Like any of the Chosen, my flesh should not encounter another’s unless related to my preparations. It spoke volumes that Lady Kala had touched me.
She led me through the twisting, endless halls of nothing but doors and numerous blazing candle sconces. I had just begun to wonder if she was lost when the hazy outline of two silent figures draped in black appeared by a set of doors.
Shadow Priests.
They’d taken their oath of silence to all new heights, having stitched their lips closed. I always wondered how they ate or drank. Based on their wraithlike, sunken frames under the black robes, whatever method they used wasn’t exactly working out that well for them.
I suppressed a shudder as each of the Priests opened a door to reveal a large, circular chamber aglow with hundreds of candles. A third Shadow Priest seemingly appeared out of thin air, taking Lady Kala’s place. The bony fingers didn’t touch my skin but pressed into the center of my back. The contact still bothered me, made me want to pull away, but I knew better than to step away from the coldness of his fingers seeping through the thin layer of cloth. Forcing myself to breathe, I stared at the etchings carved into the otherwise smooth stone. A circle with a line through it. The symbol filled each stone tile. Having never seen it before, I wasn’t sure what it meant. My gaze lifted to the wide dais before me. The Priest guided me down the aisle, and some of the pressure returned to my chest. I didn’t look at the empty pews. If I had truly been Chosen, those benches would be full of the highest-ranking nobility, the streets outside alive with cheers. The silence of the room chilled my skin.
There’d only ever been one throne before, constructed from the same stone as the Temple. Shadowstone was the color of the deepest hour of night, a marvelous material that could be polished until it reflected any source of light and whetted into a blade sharp enough to pierce flesh and bone. The throne was the glossy sort, absorbing the glow of the candlelight until the stone appeared as if it were full of dark fire. The back of the seat had been carved into the shape of a crescent moon.
The exact shape of the birthmark I bore just above my left shoulder blade. The telltale sign that even before I was born, my life had never been mine.
Tonight, there were two thrones.
As they led me to the dais and helped me up the steps, I really wished I had asked for that glass of water. Guided to the second throne, they sat me there and then left me alone. Resting my hands on the arms of the throne, I scanned the pews below. Not a single soul from Lasania was in attendance. None even knew that their lives and their children’s lives all hinged on tonight and what I needed to do. If they ever discovered that Roderick Mierel—the one the histories of Lasania called the Golden King—hadn’t spent day and night in the fields with his people, digging and scraping away land ruined by war until they revealed clean, fertile soil… That he hadn’t sown the land alongside his subjects; his blood, sweat, and tears building the kingdom… If they learned that the songs and poems written about him had been based on a fable, what was left of the Mierel Dynasty would surely collapse.
Someone closed the doors, and my gaze stretched to the back of the chamber, where I could make out the shadowy forms of my mother and Tavius in the candlelight. A third figure stood beside them. King Ernald. My stepsister, Princess Ezmeria—Ezra—stood beside her father and brother, and I didn’t need to see her expression to know that she hated every aspect of this deal. Sir Holland wasn’t here. I would’ve liked to have said goodbye to him, even though I didn’t expect him to be here. His presence would raise too many questions among the Shadow Priests.
Would reveal too much.
That I wasn’t the beacon of Royal purity, but rather the wolf dressed as the sacrificial lamb. I wouldn’t just fulfill the deal that King Roderick had struck. I would end it before it destroyed my kingdom.
Determination filled my chest with warmth as it did whenever I used my gift. This was my destiny. My purpose. What I would do was bigger than me. It was for Lasania.
So, I sat there, ankles crossed demurely beneath the gown, hands relaxed on the arms of the throne as I waited.
And waited some more.
Seconds ticked into minutes. I didn’t know how many passed, but tiny balls of unease formed in my belly. He’d been summoned to his Temple. Shouldn’t…shouldn’t he be here? My palms dampened as the knots grew, stretching into my chest. The pressure increased. What if he didn’t show?
Why wouldn’t he?
This was his deal.
When King Roderick had grown desperate enough to do anything to salvage his lands ruined by war and save those who were starving after already suffering so much loss, I imagined he’d expected a lesser god to answer his summons—which was far more common for those bold enough to do such a thing. But what had answered the Golden King was a Primal.
And when he’d granted King Roderick’s request, this was the price the Primal of Death had requested: the firstborn daughter of the Mierel bloodline as his Consort.
The Primal had to come.
What if he didn’t? My heart pounded as my fingers curled against the chilled stone of the throne.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.
If he didn’t arrive, all would be lost. Everything he’d granted King Roderick would continue to come undone. If he didn’t come for me, and I failed to fulfill this, I would doom the kingdom to a slow death at the hands of the Rot. It had started upon my birth, first with just a small patch of land in an orchard. Unripe apples had fallen from trees that had begun to lose their leaves. The ground below had turned gray, and the grass, along with the roots of the apple trees, had died. Then the Rot had spread, slowly taking out the entire orchard. In the time that passed, it had devastated several more farms. No crop could be seeded in the soil and survive once tainted by the Rot.
And it wasn’t only affecting the land. It had changed the weather, making the summers hotter and drier, the winters colder and more unpredictable.
The people of Lasania had no idea that the Rot was a clock, counting down. It was an expiration date on the deal the Golden King had made, one that had started with my birth. There was a good chance the Golden King hadn’t realized the bargain would expire no matter what. That was knowledge gained in the decades after the deal had been struck. If I failed, the kingdom would—
It started as a low rumble, like the distant sound of wagons and carriages rolling over the cobblestone streets of Carsodonia. But the sound grew until I felt it in the throne I sat upon—and in my bones.
The rumbling ceased, and the candles—all of them—went out, plunging the chamber into darkness. An earthy-scented breeze stirred the edges of the veil around my face and the hem of my gown.
In a wave, flames sparked from the candles, surging toward the pitched ceiling. My gaze fixed on the center aisle, where the very air itself had split open, spitting crackling white light. A mist seeped out from the tear, licking across the stone floor and seeping toward the pews. Tiny bumps erupted all over my skin in response. Some called the mist Primal magic. It was eather. The potent essence that not only had created the mortal realm and Iliseeum but also what coursed through the blood of a god, giving even the lesser, unknown ones unthinkable power.
I blinked. That was all I did. I blinked, and the space in front of the dais that had been empty no longer was. A male stood there, garbed in a hooded cloak and surrounded by pulsing, churning tendrils of deep shadows laced with luminous streaks of silver. I didn’t allow myself to think of what Tavius had said about him. I couldn’t. Instead, I tried to see through the wispy mass of smoky shadows. All I could tell was that he was unbelievably tall. Even from where I sat, I knew he would tower over me—and I wasn’t short by any means, nearly the same height as Tavius. But he was a Primal, and in the stories written about them in the histories, they were sometimes referred to as giants among mortals.
He appeared broad of shoulder—or at least that was what I thought the deeper, thick mass of darkness was that took the shape of…wings. His hooded head tilted back. I forgot those breathing exercises in an instant. I couldn’t see his face, but I felt the intensity of his stare. His gaze pierced straight through me, and for a brief, panicked moment, I feared that he knew I hadn’t spent seventeen years preparing to become his Consort. That my tutelage went beyond that. And that the meekness, the submissiveness I’d been taught, was nothing more than another veil I wore.
For a moment, my heart stopped as I sat on the throne meant for the Consort of the Shadowlands, one of the Courts within Iliseeum. Looking up at the Primal of Death, I felt real terror for the first time in my life.
Primals couldn’t read mortals’ thoughts. In the back of my mind, where some bit of intelligence still existed, I knew this. There was no reason for him to suspect that I was anything other than I appeared to be. Even if he’d watched me grow over the years, or if spies had been sent to Lasania, my identity, my heritage and bloodline, had been kept hidden. No one even knew there was a Princess of Mierel blood. Everything I did had been carried out in highly planned secrecy—from training with Sir Holland to the time spent with the Mistresses of the Jade.
There was no way he could know that in the two hundred years it had taken for me to be born, the knowledge of how to kill a Primal had been obtained.
Love.
They had one fatal weakness that made them vulnerable enough to be killed, and that was love.
Make him fall in love, become his weakness, and end him.
That was my destiny.
Gaining control of my hammering heart, I pulled from the hours spent with my mother, learning what would be expected of me as his Consort. How to move, speak, and act in his presence. How to become whatever he desired. I was ready for this—whether or not he was covered head to toe in the scales of the winged beasts that guarded the Primals.
My fingers relaxed, my breathing slowed, and I allowed my lips to curl into a smile—a shy, innocent one. I stood in the glow of the candlelight on feet I couldn’t feel. I clasped my hands loosely across my midsection so nothing would be hidden from him, just as my mother had instructed. I started to lower to my knees as one would upon greeting a Primal.
The stir of air was the only warning I got that the Primal had moved.
Shock silenced the gasp of surprise before it reached my lips. He was suddenly in front of me. No more than a handful of inches remained between us. Swirling light rippled the air around me. He felt cold, like the winters to the north and east. Like each winter here in Lasania slowly became with each passing year.
I wasn’t sure I even breathed as I looked up into the void where his face should be. The Primal of Death shifted closer, and one of the shadow tendrils brushed across the bare skin of my arm. I gasped at the icy feel. He lowered his head, and every muscle in my body seized. I wasn’t sure if it was his presence or the innate instinct we all had that warned us not to run. Not to make any sudden movements in the presence of a predator.
“You,” he said, his voice smoke and shadow and full of everything that awaited after someone took their very last breath. “I have no need of a Consort.”
My entire body jerked, and I whispered, “What?”
The Primal pulled back, the shadows retracting around him. He shook his head. What did he mean?
I stepped forward. “What—?” I said again.
The wind whipped from behind me this time, pitching the chamber into darkness as the candles whooshed out. The rumbling was weaker than before, but I didn’t dare move, having no idea where he was. I wasn’t sure where the edge of the dais even was. The earthy scent disappeared, and the flames slowly returned to the candles, sparking weakly to life…
He no longer stood before me.
Faint wisps of eather wafted up from the now-sealed opening in the floor. He was gone.
The Primal of Death had left. He hadn’t taken me, and in a deep, hidden part of me, relief blossomed and then crumbled. He hadn’t fulfilled the deal.
“What…what happened?” My mother’s voice reached me, and I looked up to see that she was before me. “What happened?”
“I…I don’t know.” Panic sank its claws into me as I turned to my mother, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t understand.”
Her eyes were wide and mirrored the storm brewing inside me as she whispered, “Did he speak to you?”
“He said…” I tried to swallow, but my throat tightened. The corners of my vision turned white. No amount of breathing exercises would help the alarm that took root. “I don’t understand. I did everything—”
The burning sting of my mother’s slap came as a shock. I hadn’t expected it—hadn’t even prepared myself for her to do something like that. Hand trembling, I pressed it against my cheek, standing there stunned and incapable of processing what had happened—what was happening.
Her dark eyes were even wider now, her skin a ghastly pale shade. “What did you do?” She pulled her hand back to her chest. “What did you do, Sera?”
I’d done nothing. Only what I’d been taught. But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell her anything. Words failed me as something shattered inside me, shriveling up. “You,” my mother said. While her voice was not smoke or shadow, it was just as final. Her eyes glistened. “You’ve failed us. And now, everything—everything—is lost.”
About Jennifer L. Armentrout:
#1 New York Times and #1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. She spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband and her Border Jack Apollo. In early 2015, Jennifer was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a group of rare genetic disorders that involve a breakdown and death of cells in the retina, eventually resulting in loss of vision, among other complications. Due to this diagnosis, educating people on the varying degrees of blindness has become of passion of hers, right alongside writing, which she plans to do as long as she can.
Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Tor, HarperCollins Avon and William Morrow, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her Wicked Series has been optioned by PassionFlix. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. Her adult romantic suspense novel TILL DEATH was an Amazon Editor’s Pick and iBook Book of the Month. Her young adult contemporary THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER is a 2017 RITA Award Winner in Young Adult Fiction. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.
She is the owner of ApollyCon and The Origin Event, the successful annual events that features over a hundred bestselling authors in Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult Fiction, panels, parties, and more.
