When my billionaire husband forced me to take the blame for the fire his mistress started—permanently scarring my hands—he thought he broke my spirit. He forgot I was the ghost-chef who built his Michelin-starred empire. For three years, I stayed hidden in the kitchen while Chloe Sterling took the credit and Declan's heart. But after he dismisses my ruined hands as 'collateral damage,' I'm done. I'm taking back my recipes, joining his fiercest rival, and burning his empire to the ground.

The dashboard clock glowed 11:42 PM when Elena Vale eased her battered SUV into the darkness beside the Ironfang Pack House. The engine coughed twice before falling silent. She exhaled, brushing a hand through her dark hair. A simple delivery. Confidential files for her Beta cousin. Nothing more. “Should be quick,” she murmured, reaching for the manila envelope on the passenger seat. To anyone watching, the SUV was little more than a rusting wreck. That was intentional. Beneath its shabby exterior was a rare Lycan-armored vehicle, an heirloom passed through generations of the Vale Family, descendants of the Ancient Lycan Bloodline. Keeping it disguised was just another part of Elena’s carefully maintained identity. She adjusted her jacket, making sure the antique Alpha crest pendant remained concealed beneath the fabric. Its familiar weight against her skin steadied her, even though no one around her knew what the pendant truly represented. “Just deliver the files, Elena,” she reminded herself. “Nothing unusual about tonight.” She stepped out and headed toward the imposing entrance of the Ironfang Pack House. Then the atmosphere changed. A strange energy rippled through the night, prickling across her skin and stirring the instincts she had spent years suppressing. Elena slowed. Something—or someone—was waiting in the darkness.

Elara sacrificed her magical core to build a safe haven for her husband Caelum and their adopted daughter. But as the deadly Rift storms approach, Caelum transfers Elara's protective ward-keys to his new lover, casting Elara into the dying outer slums. Branded a madwoman and abandoned by the child she raised, Elara accepts her exile. What they don't know is that Elara is the last living Apex Weaver. When the High Citadel offers her exclusive sanctuary in exchange for saving the realm, Elara takes the deal. Let the storms come—her ex-husband is about to find out exactly who was protecting whom.

To prevent the tragic fall of her country, Princess Evelyn of Anyang is forced into a political marriage with Arthur, the ruthless, iron-fisted general of the rival Great Da empire. Renowned for her breathtaking beauty and legendary frailness—coughing thrice every three steps and forever bound to medicine jars—Evelyn is widely believed to be a sacrificial lamb walking straight into a tiger's den. Everyone expects her to perish quickly under the brutal general's thumb. Yet, against all odds, the sickly princess not only blossoms under his care, recovering her health, but eventually astounds the court with a rounded belly, glowing like a pampered peony. Arthur, the most formidable commander in Da, feared even by the emperor, finds himself utterly powerless against his sharp-tongued, delicate bride. Unable to win in a war of words against her frail yet fiercely witty wife, the powerful general must resort to a different battlefield: pampering her beyond measure.