Her King
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"He is my heart's infinity without restraint for he is my evergreen." Encompassed in a sea of staggering pain, the King of Seforaux took refuge within the bleeding arms of darkness. Thorns prick him, swords stab him; arrows pierce him. For it pierced her-did it not? The bow held tightly within his scathing touch. And oh, he darkens terribly so. Fire burns beneath his touch and he intends to wreak havoc to all whom he sets his eyes upon to make them feel his pain. A tyrant ruthless than ever with a face of an angel, a body of extreme strength and eyes of evergreens. He darkens than ever before. Yet fear not, for His Queen shall save Her King. H E R K I N G ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©EVEREST GREY 2 0 1 7 B O O K T W O
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In the shadow of jagged mountains and endless black forests, two kingdoms bleed into eternal war across the crimson curse of the Red River a barrier forged in blood and betrayal. Rosevenna's golden banners wave with elegant pride, while Draventhorn's dark flags snap like whips of vengeance. Peace is a lie; hatred is their legacy. Princess Esmerane de Rosevenna is no delicate flower. With raven hair flowing like midnight wings and a bow as deadly as her secrets, she's the black sheep who fights disguised on the battlefield defying her queen mother's scorn and her kingdom's gilded cage. But when her arrow strikes the heart of the enemy, the Wraith of Draventhorn, she unleashes a storm neither can escape. Prince Lucian, feared warlord with icy eyes and a scarred soul, rules with ruthless devotion to his shadowed realm. Yet beneath the brutality beats a heart capable of fierce, unyielding love. A fragile truce forces them together no armor, no mercy, only the fire of forbidden glances and whispered barbs that ignite into something dangerous. As alliances shatter and jealousy coils like thorns, their passion becomes a weapon. In a world where love is the deadliest betrayal, can two sworn enemies claim each other... or will the river claim them both? A tale of poetic doom, where yearning twists into possession, and every touch is a step toward tragedy.

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