A girl. A wolf. An exiled king. And an adventure. When a king is overthrown by his own brother and his son attacked and left to die in the woods, Andronika, the girl with the wolf, takes him in and learns of who he is. On a quest to take back the throne of a kingdom of poison, alliances are made and a long, painful journey is undertaken to Regnum Maris, the kingdom of the sea. The kingdom of convicted criminals. Will Arden take back his crown? Emotional bonds are broken and remade, as the search for the truth sends them across the world, through sea, snow, and forest. And eventually, back to their roots. It's where it all began. It's also where it all might end.

I don't have to tell you about to me say I'm not normal. I don't even have to say my name. Just take my hand, and let me show you to the looking-glass. Look inside, and you'll see. I'm sixteen years old. I spend my life more with the dead than the living. And my father- why, my father is the Grim Reaper. Blakely knew from when she was born that she wouldn't lead a life that was ordinary. But even her unorthodox path took a turn when she met the half-angel, Arielle, whose soul had resisted her reaping. After being turned mortal, she is forced on a quest to discover her past: her heritage, her father's lies, and the true reason her brother ran away from home. Foes unite and secrets are spilled in a quest for the truth, and family are reunited and broken apart. But, when it counts, will Blakely make the right decision? This was the angel's true form, I knew; so pure that it was deadly to behold. "You won't have me, Blakely. You'll never have me."

It had been a thousand years since an asteroid slammed into the Earth, wiping out three quarters of the population and mingling the Underworld with the Living. And now, a fierce war between Undead and Living broke out. A peace treaty, kept for nine generations, had expired, and the eight major Undead and Living camps were waging war. History was repeating. Again. In a desperate attempt to quash the wars, it was decided a deadly tournament would be held to decide on a missionary to send to the camps, to persuade them to sign another treaty and ensure peace. On their return, the missionary would be rewarded with gold and prestige. There's just one catch- sixteen Undead and Living, would enter the Colosseum, where countless lives were spent. And only one would walk out. Yes, history is repeating again. "Ready to die?" she asked. "Not quite yet," I said. Can peace found from the ashes?