They called me the markless wolf. No mark on my neck. No place in the pack. No future worth having in Brym Hollow except a mountain of ancient rules, a brother who protects me like I'm property, and a sister who'd rather sharpen her claws on me than the enemy. I crossed the barrier to save my sister. One step over the line that was supposed to kill me, into dragon territory that should have burned me to nothing. The problem is, it didn't. Turns out Lord Drucor of Drakmount had already decided I belonged on his side of that line. Seven feet of obsidian muscle, silver eyes, and a century of cruelty carved into every scar on his body. He doesn't take prisoners. He takes what he wants and builds kingdoms around it. He watched me cross that barrier from the dark and let me walk straight into his mountain because he had a plan for me...

A blood contract, a chained monster named Luka, and a future I never agreed to. He didn't count on me being harder to break than he expected. He didn't count on Tyro either. His right hand. The one man in Drakmount who looked at me as a person rather than a weapon. The one man I could not afford to need.

I'm Jyn Ashrend. Markless wolf. Draklycan. The thing the old prophecies whispered about, and nobody believed. I didn't cross that barrier to fall for a dragon lord who wants to breed me for an army. I didn't cross it to fall for anyone. But I'm learning that what I want and what happens to me in that dungeon are two very different things. And some sins, once committed, don't let you walk away.