Exiles Jane Harper Novels & Stories

"And you believe him?" "I'm his mate. I felt the compulsion break. Felt him come back to himself. So yes, I believe him." Jasmina's voice softened. "But belief doesn't erase damage. Which is why he's in exile. Why you're here. Why we're trying to repair what was broken." Elara was quiet for a moment. "Your mate is in exile and you're here leading the pack. Alone. Pregnant." "Yes." "That's..." Elara searched for words. "Unusual."

The second shattered the windshield of a delivery van. Another landed at the feet of the off-duty nurse. Its tiny body twitched once. Blood seeped from its eyes. She stared, unable to move. It was the same impossible shade. Almost black. As Manhattan descended into chaos, a single instruction appeared on a screen somewhere in the city. Find Dr. Naomi Sinclair.

“Nah, they just loved the thrill of the chase. Allen showed up after news spread about the hunting party’s demise. He promised protection and money if we would try to eliminate you.” “Dirty money” Lana coughs and Jariah rolls his eyes. “Exiles are fair game, clean money.” he says, turning in her direction. She tosses him her best scowl and I hide my smile at my unafraid Luna. “You are sure Alpha Landon is alive?” I ask.

Jodie Stafford, the wealthiest heiress in Jensford, suffers a horrific car crash that leaves her paralyzed from the waist down, jeopardizing her claim to Stafford Corp. When the news reaches home, my adopted brother, Liam Gordon, drops to his knees in the living room and begs me to take his place in the arranged marriage. Holding my glass of water, I sneer as I take a step back. "Back then, you looked down on me—the real heir you brought back from the countryside—saying I was too uncultured to be presentable, so you forced the marriage alliance with the Stafford family on Liam instead. "Now that Ms. Stafford is paralyzed and a liability, you want me to take his place? Not a chance in hel

“Please, just let me go. You can’t get anything from me. I’m just a homeless lady, seeking freedom. I don’t want to be a slave of your pack. I don’t have any skills anyway. I’m useless.” She sounded like a kid begging for someone to understand her. She was about to add more heartfelt words to her sentence to change the man's mind when a familiar figure showed up, looking so stern and madly dangerous. “Leave this to me, Hakken.” 'So this young man named Hakken. Sounds interesting,' she thought to herself. “Sure, Alpha Matias.” She stepped one foot away when Hakken left her sight. Matias scanned her from head to foot the moment he fully entered the room.

She gasped as sharp pain rippled through her chest, as if invisible hooks were pulling pieces of her heart away. The boy clung to her, screaming. “It eats the threads! Don’t let it touch you!” Mara fired an arrow into the mist. The shaft struck, embedding deep in the Exile’s shoulder. Black smoke hissed from the wound instead of blood, and the Exile snarled but did not falter. Caleb hurled his spear next, the blade flashing silver in the firelight. It sliced across the Exile’s side, and for an instant, its form flickered, revealing something half-skeletal beneath the shifting shadow.

Evryn’s breath caught. Ivy walked to one plate, brushing the dust off. “I thought they terminated the others,” she whispered. “They told me… she was the only one.” Jaxon examined the terminal, eyes wide. “No. They weren’t terminated. They were transferred.” “Where?” Evryn asked. The screen flickered to life. A single word displayed: EXODUS. Evryn’s heart raced. “She’s building an army.” “No,” Ivy said. “She already has one.”

The world was hidden again. ​But as Kael looked at the wreckage, he saw a single, white escape-pod eject from the Harvester’s spine. It drifted down toward the ruins, landing near the smoldering remains of Thorne’s camp. ​The Exiles weren't just in the sky anymore. They were on the ground. And they had seen what the Davis line could do.

"I control the flow of ancient artifacts across three territories. It is laughable to suggest my daughter would hunger for a mass-produced trinket from a lesser forge." Evelyn gasped, her face flushing a deep purple. "You lie! How could an exile—" Avery, no longer wishing to waste her breath on Evelyn’s barking, turned her piercing gaze toward Harper Bennett. The girl stood rigid, the scent of guilt beginning to leak through her perfumed facade.

“You help us locate and destroy those files. All of them. Every backup, every hidden drive, every encrypted copy.” “And in return?” “You get to disappear quietly. No criminal charges, no public humiliation, no mysterious accidents.” I lean forward. “But no rehabilitation either. No return to the industry. No second chances.” Her face went white. “That's not a deal, that's exile.” “That's mercy. Which is more than you deserve.” Harper's hands tremble as she processes the offer. Without her career, she's nobody. But without the deal, she might be worse than nobody—she might be dead.