Novels by A.S. Nova

Burning oil dripped from the rusted bars of my brother’s cage, hissing as each black droplet struck the frost-covered flagstones below. ​Up on the shattered gallery, Celeste tilted the blazing torch an inch closer to Marcus’s oil-soaked rags. The sweet, helpless healer who had stolen my life in Silvercrest was gone; in her place stood a cold-blooded puppeteer wearing a victorious sneer. ​"Strip off the Lycan King’s cloak and sever his mark right now, Aria," Celeste called down, her voice ringing above the snarls of the battle outside. "Walk out those gates in chains, or watch the last of the Sterling bloodline burn alive." ​Beside me, Alpha Julian stared up at the woman he had betrayed me for, his face pale with disbelief. "Celeste, what are you doing?" he choked out. "You swore you didn't know anything about the cells beneath the packhouse!" ​"Shut up, Julian," Celeste laughed cruelly, not even sparing him a glance. "You were useful while I needed an Alpha’s seal to move silv

My brother’s blood had just been used to turn the safest fortress in the northern realm into a slaughterhouse, and the bitter hope in my chest felt like a blade twisting between my ribs. ​Jagged shards of shattered ward-stone rained across the great hall as the crimson shockwave tore through the ceiling. Before the razor-sharp obsidian could touch my skin, Damian’s massive frame enveloped mine, his heavy cloak shielding my head as he drove us behind the stone dais. ​A chorus of feral howls erupted from the freezing ravine outside. Without the ancient boundary wards, Alpha Kael’s shadow-rogues were already swarming the outer courtyard. ​"Stay down, Aria," Damian commanded, his voice dropping an octave as dark veins spider-webbed beneath his collar and his nails lengthened into lethal obsidian claws. ​"They didn't come for a siege," I breathed, staring at the steps where my brother’s silver medallion still smoldered. "A blood sigil that strong only holds the barrier open for ten

The frost-covered pines of the northern border groaned beneath a biting midnight wind as the Silvercrest envoy crossed into Obsidian territory. Standing beside Damian on the stonewatch balcony of his fortress, I pulled my fur-lined cloak tighter around my shoulders, watching the torches flicker along the snow-draped ravine below. ​"Julian actually came himself," I murmured, my breath misting in the freezing air. "Cutting off his silver mines and exposing his pact with the Eastern Ridge finally forced him out of his den." ​Damian stepped directly behind me, his towering frame radiating the scorching, predatory heat of a true Lycan King. His clawed leather glove rested on the stone parapet beside my hand, close enough that the dark electricity of our bond hummed beneath my skin. ​"A starving wolf doesn't walk into a lion's territory just to beg, Aria," Damian said, his low baritone vibrating against my spine. "He brought three of his inner-circle betas and an Eastern Ridge emissary h

A single gunshot shattered the panic in the grand ballroom. ​Sergio Bellini howled as Dante’s bullet pinned the traitor’s right palm straight into the mahogany table, splattering his scotch with crimson. ​"Nobody leaves," Dante commanded, his lethal baritone cutting through the screams. "Enzo, seal the wine tunnel and lock the gates. Anyone who moves dies." ​Reaching beneath the slit of my emerald gown, I drew my silver Sig Sauer from my thigh holster and kicked off my heels. Dante caught my hand as we sprinted into the private service stairwell, pulling me up the marble steps two at a time. ​Thick black smoke billowed across the third-floor landing, carrying the sharp stench of military thermite. ​"Stay behind my right shoulder, piccola," Dante murmured, pressing me against the wall as he flicked off his Beretta’s safety. ​Two masked mercenaries stepped out of the haze guarding the study doors. Dante moved like a shadow, f

Victoria never boarded that flight to Zurich," I said, watching in the vanity mirror as Dante stepped out of the dressing room in a bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo. "A coward running for her life doesn't send a warning five minutes after we interrogate her accomplice. Someone inside your estate tipped her off that Pier 4 failed." ​Dante stopped behind my chair, his obsidian eyes meeting mine in the glass. Without a word, he lifted a diamond serpent necklace from its velvet box and draped the cold platinum around my throat. His warm fingers lingered against my collarbone, sending a slow shiver down my spine. ​"Enzo already swept the perimeter," Dante murmured, his thumb tracing the pulse hammering at the base of my neck. "He intercepted two catering vans half a mile from the north service gate ten minutes ago. Four blocks of C4 were hidden inside the flour crates." ​I turned to face him, frowning as my emerald silk gown rustled against my ankles. "Wait. If Enzo caught the vans so easil

The morning mist clinging to the jagged pines outside my window didn't look anything like the mist back in my father’s territory. Up here, deep inside the Shadow Pack’s mountain stronghold, even the fog felt heavy, ancient, and watchful. ​I stood barefoot on the cold slate floor of the turret room, my fingers curled tight around the iron bars of the narrow balcony. Down in the muddy courtyard below, two dozen warriors were sparring. They moved with terrifying speed, shifting mid-stride between human form and massive, dark-furred wolves without a single bark or wasted motion. ​And right in the center of the stone ring stood Kael. ​He wore only black training trousers, his heavy boots caked in grey mud. Even from three stories up, the sheer power radiating off his bare shoulders made my stomach knot. A jagged silver scar cut from his left shoulder blade down to his ribs—the mark of an old silver-blade wound that would have killed a lesser Alpha. When two