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Ribbons are fascinating. They curl and twine, yet unravel so beautifully. Especially when wrapped around a woman’s sensual form. Alas, I’ve woven so many intricate knots around Camillia De la Croix that I worry she’ll never allow me the privilege of untying her. My pretty little captive is stubborn. Powerful. So delectably perfect. I’ve wanted her for many moons now. To taste her. Captivate her. Dress her in ribbons and devour her. But just as I’m about to make my move, to finally show her who I really am, she’s taken from my grasp to a place I thought long destroyed.

This is the final book in the Netherworld Fae Trilogy.

I’m an Earth Fae who doesn’t belong here. They can play their little mind games all they want, but I’m going to find a way back to my elemental world. Even if it kills me. Except Headmaster Zephyrus is one step ahead of my every move. Prince Kolstov won’t stop cornering me. And Shadow—the reason I’m in this damn mess to begin with—haunts my dreams. My affinity for the earth is dying and being replaced by something more sinister. Something powerful. Something deadly.

Welcome to Carnage Island. Home of brutal chaos. Blood and tears. And nefarious schemes. A half-breed. A reject. A wolf without a mate. My family doesn't want me. My alpha disowned me. And my mate rejected me. So I’ve just been given a new pack assignment. Carnage Island. Home to the worst of wolf kind. Vicious. Cruel beasts. Wicked deeds. I’m not one of them. But I’m not a Nantahala wolf either. I’m something distinctly other: an Omega trapped in an Alpha’s skin. One step toward my fate, and all the males turn their heads. I’m fresh meat. Property to be claimed.

"Happy birthday, Raven. Welcome to Noir Reformatory." Not what every girl wants to hear on her 18th birthday, but I accepted my fate long ago. I was born with black wings, earning me a permanent jail sentence from day one. A noir angel for life. That's fine. I'll own this prison just like I did back home. Even if it's ruled by two hot kings.

The God of Death says I’m his long-lost bride. His soul mate. An Omega who betrayed him two thousand years ago. He believes my memories are the key to our survival. Only, they’re memories I no longer possess. Because I’m not who he thinks I am. I’m Serapina, not Persephone. A human, not an Omega. And that knot he keeps talking about? Yeah, that’s not coming anywhere near me. Except Hades isn’t the only one threatening to claim me with his knot. Morpheus, the God of Dreams, says I belong to him, too.

The board has been set. The players have been chosen. Vivaxia tried to make Camillia a pawn in our eternal game—when she’s wrong about her. She’s not meant to be a pawn. She’s our queen. The Hell Fae Realm is in dire need of one, especially when rogue Virtuous Fae magic strikes. Who is an enemy? Who is being controlled? The last thing I want to do is punish the innocent, but that’s all part of Vivaxia’s game. She wants to hurt me, and deeply. That means dismantling everything I’ve built, finding ways to make all of the kingdoms turn on me. Had she planned for every outcome, she might have won.

One drink. Three maniacal mates. Drink me. This is no ordinary task. It’s a compatibility test. A way for the Silver King to find a suitable mate. All because he needs an heir. Every eligible maiden in the kingdom has to drink. Including little old me—Ailsa Marvel—a simple mortal living in a land of magic and wonder. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would become the Chosen Omega. But the moment I swallow, I find myself falling down, down, down and landing in the middle of mayhem. Monsterland is in disarray. Everyone is hunting the Silver King’s salvation. His intended.

For years, I’ve just been Serapina the human. Now, I’m Sera the Mythos Fae Omega. And apparently I harbor millennia’s worth of secrets inside my soul. So not only am I trying to discover the memories hidden somewhere within my mind, but I’m also on the run...with three irresistible fae.

“Why am I naked and tied to a chair?” Because you’re in Hell, little rebel. My hell. Camillia De la Croix isn’t human. She’s a Halfling Hell Fae with a fiery spirit and a will that refuses to break. The rebellious beauty escaped my dungeon. Fled Hell. Then f--ked off to Fae only knows where. Now I’m paying the price of her little jaunt around the fae realms. Because her antics earned us both the wrath of the Hell Fae King. He blames me for allowing her to escape.

I’m a broken Omega. A hybrid wolf shifter An abomination to dragonkind. If these Alpha dragons find out, they’re going to send me back to the nomad lands… to die. They already suspect that I’m something “other.” Hence the evaluations and trials laid out before me. So when my Alpha guard offers me a set of magical gold coins, I try to use them to buy favor with the Royal Court. Except they want more. To survive, I strike a deal with my handsome guard—I’ll give him whatever he wants in exchange for more of his golden enchantments. There’s just one problem.

“Mate me or die. Your choice.” The words weren’t meant for me, but I felt them resonating in my very soul. What would I choose? Death. Of course, I would just burn to ash and wake up again with the same damn problem swirling around in my heart and mind. My inner beast thinks it has imprinted on a Halfling Hell Fae. Without my permission.

My parents made a deal with the devil, and now I’m a Hell Fae captive. Enslaved. Owned. Thrown to the Hellhounds and expected to survive. Because only survivors earn their mates. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want to be a bride. I’m a Halfling. Part Hell Fae and part girl-who-doesn’t-give-a-shit. But because of a bargain, he owns me. Lucifer. The Hell Fae King who created this godforsaken realm. Also known as the orchestrator of these deadly bride-trial games.

My father enslaved me. Ruined me. Sold me. Left me to suffer. Until he rescued me. Alpha Sven Mickelson of Norse Sector claims to be my savior, to want me to live, and vows to protect me. But I know Alphas can’t be trusted. All he wants is my mating bond. To own me. To make me his.

My one piece of advice: Never kiss a stranger. See, I kind of kissed this sexy man at the bar on a dare once, and it turns out he’s a Royal Fae destined to be my mate. Now I’ve been dragged to the Elemental Fae Academy to control the powers I unlocked that night.

It’s Monsters Night, the annual event where the portals to other realms and realities open, and monsters flood the streets to search for their potential mates. And I’m one of the candidates. Why? Because I broke all the rules. I fought back against the elitist system hellbent on enslaving humankind. And f--k if I’m going to let one of these monsters claim me. Let alone three of themOrcus.

So, I have a third mate. No big deal. Except Auric punched my royal—descended from gods—betrothed right in the face. Novak has murder in his eyes, more so than usual. And my body is screaming at me to take all three males and teach them who’s in charge here. Because I believe the truth now. I’m a Noir royal descended from the gods themselves and destined to fix the history my fake-father forged: the one where black-winged angels were the result of sin and scandal instead of the truth.

Layla is my crown, my purpose, the sheer essence of life. She’s the key. The key to unlocking the darkness in my soul. There is no reform. No restitution. Only retaliation and fear. I’ll decorate my throne with the broken wings of my enemies. Their blood will run like a river, a red carpet at my feet. The games have just begun. The players have been cast. And in this world of darkness and sin, all will bow to their king.

Trapped in a world of sin and sexy alpha angels. Forever defined by my black wings. My father, King of the Nora, sent me to Noir Reformatory to atone for crimes I didn't commit. So, what's a girl to do? Escape, obviously. Except I need allies to accomplish that feat, and no one wants anything to do with King Sefid's daughter. If anything, my claim to the throne has only made running that much harder, and worse, I'm stuck with two hot angels standing in my way.

When the Strigoi King says, "Kneel, pet . . . " And his fated mate replies, "Make me." "Monsters Are Real." That's the title of my master's thesis. It's also why I'm in Romania. Hunting. Scouring. Searching. Because I know he's here. Ciprian Negru, King of the Strigoi. He's the heart of my...