How Does Something Wicked End In The Novel?

For seven years, Elara has been on the run. Moving every few months, hiding her powerful witch blood, and shielding her younger brother, Orion, has become her miserable existence. The only thing she knows for sure is that her luck is fading. When an anonymous, blood-written note forces her into the fastest escape of her life, she is suddenly abandoned by the one person she swore to protect. Alone and vulnerable, she falls straight into the clutches of the most dangerous, wicked males in the supernatural world. Kaelen, Lysander, and Xavier are the ruthless lords of the Penumbra Syndicate, a Fae, a wolf shifter, and a vampire. They are cursed by an enchantress to find their one true love before a magical hourglass drains the last of its red liquid, condemning them to eternal torment. They are convinced the beautiful witch they’ve captured is the very woman who hexed them. Chained in their opulent mansion, Elara fights for her life even as she’s overwhelmed by a searing, impossible attraction to her three captors. As the clock ticks down, the men must decide: is Elara the wicked enemy who ruined their lives, or the fated soulmate who can finally save them all?

Three forbidden mates. Three supernatural bonds. One twisted fate. A vampire bred for bloodshed. A dragon prince who defies his crown. A demon with nothing left to lose. For Marcus DeLuca, a mate has always been an impossibility. But fate gives him one anyway. A werewolf. His mortal enemy. And she’s already promised to her alpha. Will he betray his father and Elders to keep Danielle alive? Aidan is supposed to be untouchable. But one reckless decision—one taste of Sarah—and he shatters every rule that keeps their worlds apart. Now he’s losing control, becoming the greatest danger to Sarah’s life. Can he still protect his reluctant mate? Zane is used to being wanted. Desired. Feared. As an incubus, pleasure is his weapon—and his curse. But Elena is different. Smart. Ruthless. Untouchable. Not interested in him in the slightest. Can he survive the one woman who sees the monster inside him? Their bonds are brutal. Addictive. Dangerous. And the only thing more deadly than loving each other is what happens if they don't.

Three years ago, Ivy Valmonte married Julian Blackwood to save her family from ruin. The night before the wedding, she let Sebastian ruin her instead, on the marble floor of the wine cellar while the rehearsal dinner carried on upstairs. It never stopped. Stolen nights in hotel suites, quick and brutal sex in the back of limousines, whispered threats and promises while Julian slept down the hall. They hated each other for it. They lived for it. Now Julian is dead, the will has been read, and the empire is split: 60% to Ivy. 40% to Sebastian. Only one of them can gain interest. Only one of them can destroy the other. They declare war in boardrooms by day, and tear each other apart in bed by night, because some addictions are stronger than hate, and some secrets are worth killing for. Love was never the problem. It was the price.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

## **The Wicked Games We Play for Love** *Book One of The Wicked Series* Fourteen years ago, Dorian Vanderbilt abandoned Troy Summers in an orphanage. He locked her in a closet, walked away with his new wealthy family... and never came back. She spent fourteen years preparing for one thing. Revenge. Now twenty, Troy earns a place at an elite university where Dorian studies, armed with a simple plan: make him fall hopelessly in love with her, then destroy him piece by piece. Only Dorian isn't the boy she remembers. He is quiet. Calculating. Beautiful. Dangerous. A man with silver hair, ancient eyes, and a talent for seeing through every lie she tells. As Troy's carefully crafted seduction begins to work, her plan starts unraveling. The university hides violent secrets. Men fight like predators. Wolves roam the forests after dark. A lonely vampire mourns the loss of sunlight. Ancient druids guard magic that should no longer exist. And Dorian is not simply the heir to a powerful family... He is the nine-tailed fox. Bound by an ancient fae treaty that has stolen freedom from every supernatural race, Dorian has spent centuries manipulating allies and enemies alike in search of a way to break it. Troy was never supposed to become part of that plan. But the more they deceive each other, the more dangerous their game becomes. Every kiss is a test. Every touch is a lie. Every act of intimacy is another move in a ruthless battle between revenge and love. Until Troy discovers the truth. The boy she swore to destroy may be the only one capable of saving them all. And Dorian's greatest weakness has never been his enemies. It's the orphan girl he left behind.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,