Ellie was born of the wolves, just a commoner that the Alpha of my Park proclaimed as a mate. This is her story, and she's most very pleased to tell it to anyone wishing to win the hearts of two mighty kings from two kingdoms. Surely in the midst of pain and betrayal, you will find love. But the tales of love and happy endings will lie in the hands of your destiny.In a world that was divided from origin were two great mythical creatures, two great kingdoms, and two great rulers. Speaking of which were the Black Park, the wolves, and the Thorx Coven, the bloodsuckers. With the respect of law and order, these two kingdoms had a ball of symbiosis where they worked hand in hand to maintain their stable world. The wolves were considered as the soldiers. The protectors. The ones left to do the tough and dirty jobs within both kingdoms were the bloodsuckers, whose' strengths were limited. While the wolves had the day and nights to themselves, the vampire blossomed in the night; they were considered as royalty. The Rulers. In these two kingdoms, they had their kings, and they had maintained the law and order of peace and had always set their boundaries between each other until Ellie came along. Where would her fate lie? In the arms of love and happy endings or destruction?

I have one skill, one purpose, and no future worth speaking of. My uncle is a respected psychiatrist in the human world. He took me out of my pack at fifteen and told me it was for my own protection. That I was too strange, too dangerous, and too demonic for the world I came from. He built me a room in his asylum and called it shelter, and for ten years I absorbed the rage of powerful wolves who traveled to him in secret and left without looking back. I was useful. I was contained. I was, by every measure that mattered to the people around him, exactly where I belonged. Then he sold my contract to Alpha Garrick, and I learned that useful and expendable have always meant the same thing where I’m concerned. The Butcher of the North doesn’t need a Siphon. He needs a miracle. Five years of compounding rage already building behind his ribs like a war that never ended, a rage that killed the last woman who tried to help him. I am his last option. I am also, it turns out, the wrong one. His rage doesn’t submit to my walls. It finds the thirty-seven wolves I’ve been storing for three years and ignites them. Every session pulls us closer to a reaction neither of us will survive. The only way forward requires a power I didn’t know I had, a truth my uncle spent years burying, and a trust I have never once been given reason to practice. I was raised to believe I was too broken for the world. Nobody warned me about what happens when the world decides it isn’t finished with me yet. And nobody — least of all me — expected me to fall for the man whose darkness could kill us both.