Novels by Reina

Lyra POV The room spun. If they found the map, Elena and the sixteen others were as good as dead. If they found the wooden wolf, they'd know I'd been in contact with other survivors. Everything, years of planning, seventeen lives, the only hope any of us had, would be destroyed in the next sixty seconds."Please," I heard myself say, hating the desperation in my voice. "Please, I'm telling the truth. I don't know anything about an escape plot. I'm just a slave who—""Who has Elena of Rivermoon's scent all over her," Dante interrupted, his voice turning ice-cold. "Yes, I noticed it when you brought my breakfast this morning. That particular combination of kitchen soap and desperation. She was one of Rivermoon's youth when I conquered them two years ago. Smart girl. Clever enough to hide in plain sight as a servant. Clever enough to organize resistance right under my nose."He knew. He'd known this entire time and had been playing with me, watching me squirm."And if Elena is involved,

Lyra POVThe dungeons smelled like death and silver.Marcus dragged me down the spiral stairs with vicious efficiency, his grip never loosening even when I stumbled on the slick stone steps. Each descent took us deeper into the bowels of Blackthorne Keep, where the morning light couldn't penetrate, where screams echoed off walls that had heard too many before.My mind raced in frantic circles. Adrian. A name I didn't recognize. A survivor who claimed to know about an escape plot. Either this was Dante's elaborate trap to expose me, or someone had actually broken under torture and was about to destroy everything Elena and the others had built over two years of careful planning.Either way, I was walking into a nightmare."You know what fascinates me about liars, Princess?" Marcus's voice drifted back to me, conversational despite the iron grip on my arm. "They always give themselves away. A twitch of the eye. A quickening pulse. The subtle scent of fear-sweat." He glanced over his shou

Lyra POVThe scream that woke me wasn't my own.I jolted upright on my thin mat, heart racing, disoriented in the predawn darkness of the servants' quarters. Around me, other gray-clad bodies stirred, whimpering, but no one dared speak. We'd all learned that lesson quickly, silence was survival in Blackthorne Keep.The scream came again, distant but unmistaken. A man's voice, raw with agony, cutting through the stone walls like a blade. Then it stopped abruptly, severed mid-cry, leaving only silence more terrible than the sound itself.One of the three survivors, I realized with sickening certainty. Marcus was making good on his threats.I pressed my hand against my stomach, feeling the map's edges through the rough fabric of my dress. Elena's wooden wolf dug into my hip where I'd hidden it in my pocket. Two days until the full moon ceremony. Two days until I could meet with the other survivors and figure out if we had any chance at all.If any of us lived that long."On your feet, sl

Lyra POV I spun around so fast I nearly dropped the pot, soapy water sloshing onto the already filthy floor. My heart hammered against my ribs as my eyes scanned the massive kitchen, searching for Marcus's snake-like form in the shadows. He'd said he'd be watching. He'd promised consequences.But the figure that emerged from behind the pantry door wasn't the half-vampire with his death-smell and cold smile.It was a woman.She couldn't have been more than thirty, maybe twenty five, with mousy brown hair that hung limp around a face too thin, too gaunt. Her gray servant's dress was identical to mine, but hers was worn threadbare at the edges, stained with years of use rather than hours."Princess Lyra," she whispered again, glancing nervously over her shoulder. "Please, you have to listen quickly. He'll make his rounds again in ten minutes.""Who are you?" I demanded, my voice barely above a breath. "How do you know my name?""Everyone knows your name. The entire Keep has been talking

Lyra POV "You heard me." He reaffirmed the words I thought I had heard wrong. Dante settled back onto his throne, crossing one leg over the other like he had all the time in the world. "Strip her of those royal garments. I want everyone to see what a Silvermoon princess truly is without her crown and comfort."Two female guards approached, and I tried to fight, but the silver had sapped too much of my strength. They tore at my ceremonial dress, the white silk gown I'd worn to watch my brother's coronation, now stained with blood and dirt. The fabric ripped easily, and soon I was standing in nothing but my undergarments, shivering in the cold hall.The crowd murmured. Some laughed."Better," Dante said softly. "But not quite right. Kira, bring the uniform."The golden-haired woman stepped forward, and I saw the triumph in her green eyes. She held a bundle of gray fabric that she dropped at my feet with deliberate carelessness."Servants wear gray in Blackthorne Keep," Dante explained

Lyra POV The silver burned.Not just my wrists where the cuffs bit into my skin, but everywhere. They'd wrapped silver chains around my ankles, my waist, even my throat, a collar like I was some animal to be leashed. Every breath was agony. Every heartbeat sent fresh waves of fire through my veins.But I wouldn't scream. I couldn't give them the satisfaction.The wagon lurched over another rut in the road, and I bit down hard on my lip, tasting copper. Around me in the darkness, I could hear others breathing. Survivors, maybe. Or prisoners like me. The heavy canvas covering the wagon blocked out everything, sight, sound, even scent. All I could feel was pain and the rhythmic creak of wheels on dirt.How long had we been traveling? Hours? Days? Time had lost all meaning somewhere between watching my brother die and feeling my father's life force wink out like a candle in the wind. The pack bonds, those invisible threads that connected every Silvermoon wolf to our alpha and to each oth