Novels by Blaak jewel

Derek crosses the boundary at dawn, leaving Fang territory behind for the lawless expanse where rogues make their home. He's been here once before on a failed reconnaissance mission, barely escaped with his life. Now he's walking back in voluntarily, carrying a message that could get him killed.All for a girl who looked at him with haunted eyes and asked for help.The forest grows denser as he travels deeper, ancient trees blocking out most of the sunlight. He marks his path carefully, knowing one wrong turn could leave him lost forever. By midday, he catches the first scent of the rogue camp, old blood mixing with wood smoke.Two wolves intercept him before he gets within sight of the settlement."Lost, pup?" The larger one bares his teeth, circling Derek with predatory intent. "Fang territory is that way."Derek raises his hands slowly, showing he's unarmed. "I'm looking for someone. A vampire named Stark."The wolves exchange glances. "The prince? What does a Fang scout want with

Roselyn Pete's hands are on me again.We're in the garden behind the pack house, supposedly discussing flower arrangements for the ceremony. But his fingers keep finding excuses to touch, sliding down my arm, tracing patterns on my lower back, pulling me closer under the pretense of showing me something in the distance."What do you think of white roses?" he asks, his breath warm against my neck. "Or would you prefer something more exotic?""White roses are fine," I say, trying to step away. His arm tightens around my waist."You're so tense lately." His lips brush my ear, making my skin crawl despite the mate bond's insistent pull. "The ceremony is only two weeks away. You should be excited."Excited. The word tastes like poison. Two weeks until I'm marked, bound, his forever. Two weeks until there's no escape from this beautiful cage he's building around me."I'm just tired," I lie, the same excuse I've used a dozen times.Pete turns me to face him, hands cupping my face with what

The rogue camp sprawls across a clearing like a scar on the forest floor.Crude shelters built from stolen lumber and salvaged stone house maybe fifty outcasts, a mix of wolves and vampires who've been cast out from their kingdoms. Fires burn in metal drums, casting flickering shadows across faces marked by violence and loss. This is where the unwanted come to survive.Marcus leads Stark through the camp, and every eye turns to watch. The female wolf from the fight limps behind them, still bleeding from her ribs."This is Kara," Marcus says, gesturing to her. "My second-in-command and the reason half these idiots are still alive."Kara shifts back to human form properly now, pulling on clothes from a nearby shelter. She's around twenty-five in human years, with short dark hair and a scar running from her eyebrow to her jaw. When she looks at Stark, her expression is pure disdain."The vampire prince," she says, making it sound like an insult. "How wonderful. Another entitled royal slu

The wild lands begin where civilization ends.Stark crosses the boundary at midnight, leaving vampire territory behind for the lawless expanse between kingdoms. The forest here grows thick and twisted, ancient trees blocking out even the blood moon's light. No patrols guard these borders, no laws govern the creatures who make their home in darkness.Perfect.He's been walking for three hours when he smells them. old blood, and the sharp musk of wolves who've abandoned their packs. Rogues. At least six, maybe more, moving through the trees with predatory intent.Stark doesn't slow his pace. He has no interest in fighting, but he won't run either. Running implies fear, and he left that emotion back at the castle along with everything else that made him civilized."Well, well," a voice calls from the shadows. "What do we have here?"Five wolves emerge from the darkness, circling Stark with practiced efficiency. They're lea

The vampire castle looms against the sky like a monument to everything Stark no longer cares about.He stands at the gates for a long moment, studying the obsidian towers and silver spires that have been home for three centuries. The guards recognize him immediately, their shocked expressions almost comical. Prince Stark, the disgraced heir who disappeared into the wild lands six weeks ago, has returned."Open the gates," he commands, his voice carrying the authority he was born with.They obey without question, and Stark walks through into the courtyard. Servants scatter at his approach, rushing to alert the king and queen. He ignores them, heading straight for the throne room with purpose he hasn't felt in weeks.His mother reaches him first.Queen Seraphina appears in the corridor like a pale ghost, her eternal beauty marred by worry lines that shouldn't exist on an immortal face. When she sees Stark, her composure shatters completely."My son," she breathes, and then she's runnin

Pete finds me in the garden three days after the celebration.I'm sitting on a stone bench near the herb plots, watching frost kill the last of the autumn flowers. The air smells like dying things and wood smoke, and I'm grateful for the cold because it gives me an excuse for the numbness spreading through my limbs."There you are," he says, his voice warm with affection that feels rehearsed. "I've been looking everywhere."I don't turn around. "I needed quiet.""You've needed a lot of quiet lately." He sits beside me, close enough that our thighs touch. Spark flares at the contact, sending heat through my veins that I don't want to feel. "Are you having second thoughts?""No," I lie, still staring at the dying flowers.Pete's hand finds my chin, turning my face toward him with gentle insistence. His amber eyes search mine, and I see calculation behind the concern. "You can tell me anything, Roselyn. We're mates. There