Five years ago, I masterminded the infamous massacre of the Tri-state Timberwolves. The streets outside the Wolves HQ ran red with the blood of the old guard, and not one of those members loyal to my father were spared mercy. Not a single one. I let the media twist and distort the story. My new recruits eagerly proved themselves in spreading false news, in covering our tracks. To the general public, the Tri-State Timberwolves were extinct. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

I, Braxton Fawn, am the luckiest girl alive. Or so the world keeps telling me. Every so often, gods walk the earth. This time they came as musicians. When Bound loses its lead guitarist, yours truly is chosen to fill his shoes. From dive bars to the big stage, my instant claim to fame is nothing short of a fairytale. The only problem? My new bandmates. Jaded, gorgeous, and ridiculously talented—they're determined to turn my dream into a nightmare.

Bruised and abused, and victim to a loveless household, I shimmered with new life the moment he found me drowning my sorrows in a lake beneath the stars. A chance encounter. An unspoken connection. I was smitten. He was curious. But, as everyone knew, fate could be decidedly cruel. He called me Halley, like the comet. I called him Reed. And my best friend? Well… she called him Dad.

Avi's into old-school emo bands, true crime, and cryptids. And if not many others share his interests, he's cool with that, as long as he doesn't run out of weed. But then he moves from Brooklyn to Boston with his mom, which isn't a big deal . . . until she announces she's seeing someone and he happens to have a son Avi's age. As his mom's relationship gets more serious, they all move in together, and under the same roof as his future stepbrother, Avi's never felt more out of place.

Cameron Mortem has a problem—he can't stop killing his partners. Officially labeled clinically insane, he's also one of the most lethal assets in the Dark Forces, a brutal underground military operation built on obedience, survival, and silence. But an experimental drug has fractured his control, making him a liability whenever someone else is on the field. As punishment, he's thrown back into the Under Trials—a merciless boot camp designed to break the weak and sharpen the ruthless. His one directive? Don't kill the new girl.

New York Admirals captain Scott Hunter takes his pregame rituals very seriously. In this case, it's not just a lucky smoothie he's craving - it's the man who made it. Pro hockey star Scott Hunter knows a good thing when he sees it. So, when a smoothie made by juice bar barista Kip Grady precedes Scott breaking his on-ice slump, he's desperate to recreate the magic...and to get to know the sexy, funny guy behind the counter.

I've always been a tough North Shore girl. Fighting is in my blood, survival in my DNA. But two years ago, Caden King broke me, and he has proof of it. Now he wants to blackmail me into doing a job for him. The kind that puts my chance of escaping the North Shore at risk. The kind that means betraying my own crew.

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.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

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.