Faith's entire life had been dictated by a prophecy. A stupid prophecy, if you asked her. Coddled and over-protected, Faith decides to do something about it. Finding herself a job, she's thrust into the very heart of the war. In a lonely graveyard, the heir to the werewolf throne meets her match.

Rosa dying was pretty much a given. It was always going to happen-but the how had always been uncertain. Would her ex-lover decide she'd lived long enough, ending her life because she knew too much? Would said ex-lover's enemies come for her throat, realising she could be used as bait? Or would she accidentally kill herself, slipping on beer she'd failed to clean up? Rosa didn't care much for the how-but Gods, what she'd give to know the when.

Kyra was made to serve a purpose. To fight in some big war and kill some big enemy. The usual. Except with too many questions and not enough answers, Kyra put her foot down. Enough was enough. Escorted to her big bad creator's office, Kyra's life spirals out of hand.

Could Caspian's luck get any worse? His mate was the stuff of dreams and nightmares. Sure, he'd never wanted a mate-but this was downright unfair. This woman was evil. And Caspian didn't do evil. No matter how alluring said evil was. In this world, there were laws. Blood was one of them. Playing with fire. This woman didn't know how to handle him. Cas would have to learn that the hard way.

"I don't believe that untouchable act you've got going for a minute by the way. You can't be this calm and collected about everything." Seth the tracker had a wee bit of a reputation. One he was proud of, thank you very much. So what if he was a loud-mouthed, inappropriate, immature waste of space? He was content with his way of living. He had no need for change. "Not everyone loses their head the way you do." When one wrong deed goes a jot too far, his name falls on the radar of an immortal badass eager to drag him to his judgement. Eager to see him punished. Seth loved a good old punishment-but nothing gave him a run for his money quite like her. "I don't lose my head. A freakout every now and then is good for you." With a devastating war close on the horizons, Seth the tracker finds himself working at the very heart of it, working off his crimes. Only a woman could give him this kind of hell. "I don't need to freakout. I'm quite fine with the calm I already have."

"I don't need a backup plan." Her doubt in him was offensive. Killian would move mountains to get what he wanted. He'd topple kingdoms, thrones and royals without a second thought. So long as he had the means. Forever oppressed as vampire General, the throne he hankered for seemed unattainable. Out of reach. Until her. "That sounds like over-confidence," She tutted, trailing her fingers across his lips. "It's me who'll die if that goes wrong. I'd appreciate a backup plan." Their alliance wasn't born from trust. Or lust. Not even toleration. They were pushed together without choice. Only circumstance called for rebellion. His words were a fluttery whisper against her mouth. "I promise you right now, we don't need a backup plan. Tomorrow, everything I've planned will go accordingly. Have a little faith in me Sinclair. I won't let you die." Separate plans. Separate motivations. Was working together even possible? She pressed her forehead to his, the distance between them nigh non-existent. "I hope that's a promise you're able to keep. If I die, I'll haunt you."

Sword still in her hands, she stomped her foot again. "Why are you smiling?" Brainwashed? Check. Sheltered? Check. Lost and alone? Check and, uh, check. That about summed Megan up. Banished from the heavens-kicked out-same thing-everyone thought for sure that this was it for her. Of course, no one had taken the demon King into account. He shrugged. "Because I'm happy." "Why?" She asked. "Because I find you endearing." "Why?" Desperate? Damn straight. Loved up? Beyond recognition. Prepared to rip anybody and everybody's throat out at any given moment for looking at her wrong? Absolutely. Claudio had waited far too long for his mate. Nothing was getting in the way of their forever. Not life. Not death. Certainly not a war that she'd be heading. "Because I've waited a long time for this. I'm going to explain to you what it means to be a... mate."

"I'm going to catch you up to speed here Eros. We're going to fuck, if that's alright with you." Six hundred years ago, Eros, God of the angels, died a brutal death. Murdered in his own throne room. Scythe to the heart. Twisted. Six hundred years later, the winged man woke up, a shell of the man he used to be. "That's perfectly fine with me." For some god forsaken reason, nobody could see him. Or hear him. It was as though he wasn't there. As if he were still dead. But she could see him. And touch him. And taste him. If he could keep his mind off of her evil lips for long enough, he'd spark a deal. A deal in which she, his sweetest torture, assisted him in his journey back to life. "I thought it might be." Of course, he failed to factor in her separate agenda. MASS DAILY UPDATES

"Why do I want you so bad?" Princess Nazreen had never left her castle. She had no experiences of the world. Hidden away in her shell, she experienced nothing outside of her little box. Until him. "Why can't I get enough of you?" A man with his own agenda. With his own problems. With his old-fashioned ways and ruthless outlook upon the world. "Why do you taste so good?" He didn't intend to get so caught up in her. To lose focus on the mission. But one thing led to another and ... "Why do I feel so good?" There was no going back from this. 3rd Celestials instalment Can be read as a stand alone book.