The Wicked and The Vain

Let's get one thing straight: I am NOT the villain in this story.

Sure, I turned a Saint into a vampire. And yes, that technically ruined a divine prophecy. And okay, maybe the Warlocks have a point about the whole "disrupting the cosmic balance" thing.

But in my defense, no one TOLD me Elias was special.

Now I'm stuck with:

One newly-turned vampire with concerning gold eyes and zero survival instincts.

One stupidly attractive Warlock who saved my life and won't let me forget it. ?

One Blood Debt I never agreed to (being unconscious doesn't count as consent, Johan).

Ten werewolf packs who think we murdered their Ultima, the Alpha of Alphas.

Zero ideas how to fix any of this.

Oh, and those dreams of me and Johan that are making it increasingly harder to look him in the eye. Those will stop anytime now. As soon as I stop pretending to be his mate.

We're trapped in a sacred temple, hunting a stolen artifact, solving a murder mystery, and trying not to kill each other. Or kiss each other. The line gets blurrier every day.

Falling for a Warlock isn't just forbidden-it's suicide.

Good thing I'm already dead.