As an Artificer, no machinery is beyond me—except that of flesh and blood. The one thing my instruments can’t mend is my own wounded heart.
But when every soul in a small town vanishes overnight, we find mysterious Fae artifacts left behind. The tracks of the humans that used them lead Below, into the nightmare world of the long-dead Fae.
Only one fiend can get us down there, and bring us back alive.
Wroth’s ruinous temper is legendary. There’s something broken beneath his beastly skin, a fracture in his soul that seeps rage and shadows.
But as the darkness of the Below forces us together, a light begins to shine through those cracks.
His hope is delicate, as fragile as clockwork, easily crushed.
But I’ve already put my faith in a vampire once.
Never again.
Wroth
Only a fool would trust in a human.
After fifty years of hell, the shackles of unholy matrimony have finally loosened—and freed me to lick my wounds and bury the pain. Never again will I subject myself to the loathing of a woman, even if it costs my throne.
Until a bespectacled, half-Forian noblewoman bursts into my castle, demanding I hunt down traitorous loyalists.
In the dark Below, where unbreakable bonds are forged, Jesamin guards my back as I guard hers.
There’s something compelling in her grit and determination. Her trust is a fragile, precious thing, a butterfly cradled in my brutish hands.
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