The kingdom is bleeding, and war is no longer coming - it's here. Rogues rise under one banner. Her father's. Villages burn, packs fall, and the Lycan King is out for blood. Then she appears - shackled, silent, defiant. A rogue. A prisoner. A mystery. Kalowna Vaekhar doesn't tolerate weakness. He conquers it. But something about her makes his instincts snarl and his wolf still. She's too composed for someone broken. Too dangerous for someone without a wolf. Too tempting for a king who swore to never lose control again. He should execute her. Instead, he locks her behind gold and steel and watches the storm gather in her eyes. Something ancient stirs in her bones. Something forbidden. And the more she awakens, the more his empire begins to crack. She's not just part of the war. She's the key to ending it. Or destroying everything he was born to protect. "You're a rogue," he says, voice low and filled with contempt. "And I despise everything that makes you one." She lowers her gaze, voice barely a whisper: "I am what they made me... broken and lost."

Kidnapped. Broken. But never tamed. She was stolen as a teenager and thrown into a brutal slave training program run by Lycans-shifters who rule with power and cruelty. For ten years, she's endured pain, punishment, and control. Escape has always failed... until now. During a deadly "hunt," she makes her move-only to land in the hands of Connor Kinkade. He's a rogue Lycan, hunted by his kind and hiding secrets of his own. He doesn't want a slave. But to protect her, he has to keep her. She doesn't trust him. He doesn't want to care. But in a world where monsters wear human faces, sometimes the most dangerous person is the only one who doesn't hurt you.

The plague of the witch's reign ended nearly two centuries ago, their age of power over the realm of Vytelor finally ceasing at the hands of the royal family. Throughout the eighty-year war, they managed to find the witch's weaknesses, they learned where their magic stemmed from, and with their armies strategized a way to make it end. A way to slaughter the most powerful of them, and force the rest into surrender. The Kendrick family then formulated a plan. A witch's magic is an important element with many uses, many of which the people agreed that they couldn't live without. They couldn't eradicate them completely. Spells of protection, enchantments that provide the body with warmth in snow, or sigils cast into the skin to bring luck or health. Their ability to tap into one's soul. To see one as one's most sincere self, and even go as far as reaching to discover one's soul bond, one's truest match. Such abilities couldn't go to waste regardless of the potential danger. Their use was priceless, and they had become easy enough to control under the right hand. Discipline and restraints were enough to keep their anger and vengeance from turning into anything truly harmful. Thus, the royals set out an order for containment instead. Grimoires filled with history and knowledge were collected and burned, save for a select few. Something similar happened with the witches themselves. Witches of the new generation grew up lacking knowledge of how to tap into their potential and were, from there, deemed no threat. These witches were sold off to me, no more than help in a homestead to those who could afford them. Those few that were picked and permitted to wield their magic were trained solely in the art of what the kingdom wanted them for. No more, and no less. Now was the time for Prince Elias to take his throne, but first must come to he ceremony with a witch to find who his soul's bond is. Followed by a hunt with his men to find her, and make her his Queen.