There might be no rest for the wicked, but there’s no rest for the exhausted, either. We’ve barely survived one fight, and we have another blade at our throats. Strike that. Three blades. I can see only one possible chance at surviving the three evils we face, no matter how much I might hate it. I have to make my peace with one of them and pray that they will help me take down the other two, before we turn on each other.

Hope is a four-letter word. Yet, I can’t help but hope that the Oracle will be the answer to what I seek. But getting to the Oracle is no small thing as she resides in the center of the Blasted Lands - toxic waste, lava, and monsters. And as the alpha of our pride, it’s up to me to act responsibly and not get my people all killed. Driving us from behind comes the desert goddess whose rage is centered on me, and with her is a new ally, who still holds my heart in his hands. One whose voice calls to me still.

There was nothing that could have prepared me for Dragon’s Ground. And I thought that nothing could be worse than what I faced there. Just my black cat bad luck, the world is set to prove me wrong. South lies the Jinn’s Dominion, and within it the members of my Pride who need my help. The further south we go, the more danger comes not only from outside our group but from within. Ishtar’s new hunters. Marsum, leader of the Jinn. And the emperor himself. All three want something from me. All three claim they can give me the world on a silver platter, to give me my deepest desires. 

We survived the land of the Witch’s Reign - that much is true. But our arrival home is far from welcome. My idiot brother has taken it upon himself to ride off in search of a mythical healer, someone who might help him walk again. Assuming she doesn’t eat him first. Because she’s a dragon and happens to reside in the deepest reaches of the Dragon’s Ground. Like I said, idiot. I’d go after him myself, but his leaving is not the only problem I face. My mentor has forbidden me to leave the safety of the Stockyards. Her reasoning? That I am too weak to weather the coming storms.   

The Witch's Reign...a land of unnatural hellish cold ruled over by the Ice Witch herself, who is in turn guarded by three creatures - Wolf, Bear, and Raven. Those lovely beasts derive their power directly from their mistress and just happen to kill any who cross their paths. To get there, you first must pass through the Dragon's Ground. Full of, you guessed it, dragons who for the record, also do not like trespassers. Sounds like a fun place to go, doesn't it? Yeah, not so much.

Eva is a herd mistress without a herd. A tagalong by her own definition. Not thrown away by her people, but rather someone who created a new life for herself when the old one died. When she rescues one of the mysterious winged horses, a creature straight out of myth, from those who would enslave him, Eva opens the door to something her chosen people want more than anything else. An alliance.  

The pathfinder, Shea, has chosen to make a place for herself among her former captors, leaving behind her people and the life she once knew. However, not all welcome this outsider in their midst. Shea will find that surviving alone in the wilderness is child’s play next to navigating the politics that come with her new position. Especially when it becomes evident that there are those out for her blood.

The Trateri are about to learn a vital lesson of the Broken Lands. Deep in the remote expanse where anything can happen, it pays to be on a pathfinder's good side. Nobody ventures beyond their village. Nobody sane, that is. Monstrous creatures and deadly mysteries wait out here. Luckily for the people she serves, Shea's not exactly sane. As a pathfinder, it's her job to face what others fear and find the safest route through the wilderness. It's not an easy job, but she's the best at what she does.

Recently appointed Crown Agents Jev and Zenia must prove they're worthy of their new jobs and young King Targyon’s trust. Their mission? To research the strange “disease of the blood” that killed Targyon’s three cousins and left him unexpectedly ruling an entire kingdom at barely 20 years of age....

After 10 years at war, Jev Dharrow looks forward to hanging up his sword, relaxing with a cool mug of ale, and forgetting that the love of his life married another man while he was gone. But when his ship sails into port, a beautiful woman wearing the garb of an inquisitor from one of the religious orders waits to arrest him. He’s accused of stealing an ancient artifact with the power to start another war. Jev would gladly hand over the artifact to stop more suffering, but he has no idea where it is or even what it looks like. The inquisitor woman definitely has the wrong person. 

It's not easy pretending to be dead - especially when it feels as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Between an unfulfilled prophecy, the demon-occupied Lowlands, the continuing power of murderous Aifric Moncrieffe - not to mention her constant yearnings for Byron - Integrity Adair has a lot to worry about. Still, how hard can it really be to save Scotland, maintain her morals, get the guy, and keep her sense of humor?

Integrity Taylor should have been a Clan princess. Instead she's lived a life on the very periphery of society. However, now that she's learned more about her heritage and the magic that she's capable of wielding, she's not going to hide in the shadows any longer. The once-in-a-generation Sidhe Games are going to provide the perfect opportunity for her to win back her birthright, and the fact that she'll be going head-to-head, toe-to-toe, and mouth-to-mouth with golden-haired Byron Moncrieffe might just be the icing on the cake.

Since the moment I was ripped from my mother's womb, I've been an outcast among my own kind. The Sidhe might possess magical Gifts, unbelievable wealth, and unfathomable power, but I don't want a thing to do with them. I ran away from their lands in the Highlands of Scotland when I was 11 years old, and I've never looked back. I don't need a clan. I've got my own family of highly skilled thieves who mean more to me than any Sidhe ever could.

When I first landed a bartending job at the local guild, I didn't know a thing about magic. These days, I'm practically an expert on the different magical classes, but there's one nobody ever talks about: Demonica. Turns out they have a good reason for that. My guild is strictly hellion-free, because who wants to risk life and limb to control the biggest bullies on the mythic playground? Well, some people do, and now a demon has been loosed in the city. My three best friends are determined to slay it, but even badass combat mages are critically out-magicked.

Three months ago, I landed a job as a bartender. But not at a bar-at a guild. Yeah, the magic kind. I'm not a badass mage like my three smokin' hot best friends. I'm not a sorcerer or an alchemist, or even a wussy witch. I'm just a human, slinging drinks like a pro and keeping my non-magical nose out of mythic business. Seriously, I know my limits. So why am I currently standing in a black-magic ritual circle across from a fae lord? Somewhere behind me, my three mage friends are battling for their lives.