THE MIST CLAIMS.
THE MOON MARKS.
AND THE WARWOLF HUNTS.
A strong moon blotted out the starlight the night Fianna was born, condemning her as a bride to the wolves. Ever since, her freedom has been on borrowed time, and it’s running out.
Long before Fianna’s birth, the Dark Elves descended upon Midgard within a thick mist, hungry for blood. Only the warwolves, men caging a beast beneath their skin, stood between humanity and ruin. And they hungered too. Not for blood, but for brides.
Now, while the mist still comes, swallowing people whole, the elves are long defeated. Yet still the warwolves collect payment for their past protection: moonborn daughters must become their mates, chased down in Odin’s Wild Hunts and claimed. No choice. No escape.
This Hunt, the witches call Fianna’s name. But she will not go quietly.
Marched into the warwolf kingdom with the other moonborn, she meets Thorolf, their prophesied savior. Despite claiming he will take no bride in the Hunt, he is always watching her. Seeking her out. Link by link, he threads her shackles and calls them mercy. She feels like he’s trapping her, but what she fears is not the wolf. It’s how much she wants him.
As Thorolf lures her deeper into his world, Fianna realizes the war was never won, and she learns a secret that could save Midgard but doom her.
In enemy land, she finds sisters. Finds allies wearing fangs and claws. And something new: hope. She will fight against her fate, and she will fight for freedom.
Come the blood moon, the wolf will keep only what he catches.
“Run, Fianna of my torment. Run, for I can hold back no longer.”
Fianna will make a choice.
Let them try to steal it.
Let them learn… what it will cost them.
Readers 17+
