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.

Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother—has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates striving to become the elite of Navarre: dragon riders. But when you’re smaller than everyone else and your body is brittle, death is only a heartbeat away...because dragons don’t bond to “fragile” humans. They incinerate them. With fewer dragons willing to bond than cadets, most would kill Violet to better their own chances of success.

Violet is a typical, down-on-her-luck millennial: mid-twenties, over-educated and drowning in debt, on the verge of moving into her parents' basement. When a lifeline appears in the form of a very unconventional job in neighboring Cambric Creek, she has no choice but to grab at it with both hands.

I'm a doctor and a researcher. My pack is small, in a quiet part of central Texas. It's a simple existence, and I like it that way. It's just me and my two besties, living our best single lives. That is until the mandate comes. Every unmated wolf in the entire world called to one place. I'm a psi, the weakest designation there is. I can barely shift, and there's no chance of me getting matched—only humiliated. It can't get worse—until it does. I've barely made it off the bus when I lock eyes with the hottest wolf I've ever seen, and he reeks of power.

After watching my mother succumb to a mysterious illness, I promised myself two things. I'd find the cure for what ravaged her and leave the godforsaken city where she abandoned me. Four years later, I received an acceptance letter from Dracadia University, one of the oldest most prestigious schools in the country. Nestled on a secluded island off the coast of Maine, it's rumored to be haunted by the souls of the mental patients exiled there centuries before, those whose bones are said to make up the island's white sandy shores. And restless ghosts aren't even its most daunting peculiarity.

The night she showed up at my bar with a fake ID, I kicked her out. On her birthday, the following week, she showed up again. Except this time, she was demanding a job and willing to do whatever it took to get it. Against my better judgment, she got her way, but I'm not going to make it easy on her. Neither are the guys at my bar. I have two choices: Pretend she's mine to protect her. Or deal with the consequences when her five older, overprotective brothers find out what their little sister is up to.

It started out like any other morning on the train - until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle. He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world. Who did the stuck-up suit think he was...God? Actually, he looked like a god. That was about it.

The first time I met Chase Parker, I didn't exactly make a good impression. I was hiding in the bathroom hallway of a restaurant, leaving a message for my best friend to save me from my awful date. He overheard and told me I was a bitch, then proceeded to offer me some dating advice. So I told him to mind his own damn business and went back to my miserable date. I couldn't help but sneak hidden glances at the condescending jerk on the other side of the room. Of course, he caught me on more than one occasion, and winked.

Death is meant to come on a chariot of broken dreams or in the dark trenches of a storm, not in love letters and gifts. He did not take my soul when I was meant to die. He did not want it all the other times that I've offered it to him on a silver platter. Yet, time and time again, he reminds me that I am his: His night monster, his dark love, his perfect other. Death was the only thing keeping me alive. He watches me from his corner, taunts me with sweet messages, marks my body with his touch as I sleep. He took the people that I love away from me.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His belly full of laughter, his life full of joy. Until one day, something changed; stripped his innocence away. The hole inside making space for the devil to come and play.