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.

Kyran Harbor is everything I'm not. Rich. Popular. A superstar football player who's awfully broody for someone who has it all. Basically, he's a preppy jock who hates me. Oh, and he's also my stepbrother. That's right. We're stuck together, sharing a school, a house, a bathroom. Honestly I wouldn't care if he wasn't such an uptight control freak who messes with me just because we're different. I had every intention of avoiding him when we got to college. Until abrupt misfortune forces us both into a compromising position.

Twenty-four-year-old Saeris Fane is good at keeping secrets. No one knows about the strange powers she possesses or the fact that she has been picking pockets and stealing from the Undying Queen's reservoirs for as long as she can remember. But a secret is like a knot. Sooner or later, it is bound to come undone. When Saeris comes face-to-face with Death himself, she inadvertently reopens a gateway between realms and is transported to a land of ice and snow. The Fae have always been the stuff of myth, of legend, of nightmares… but it turns out they're real.

When nineteen-year-old huntress Feyre kills a wolf in the woods, a terrifying creature arrives to demand retribution. Dragged to a treacherous magical land she knows about only from legends, Feyre discovers that her captor is not truly a beast, but one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled her world.

Lennox Kennedy is beautiful, loud, and the love of my life. She's also my ex-girlfriend. The first time I saw her after ten years apart, I slammed into the plexiglass minutes before our game was set to begin. The second time I threw up. The third time's a charm apparently because as my fiancée and I walked into an appointment to meet the woman hired to plan our nuptials—there she was again. Obviously, I did what any smart man would do—I called off the wedding. I don't have a plan per se, other than winning back the only girl I've ever loved.