The king's Hound doesn't feel. That's what they made him for. Until he meets her.

Lyra Verren has bled for the resistance for five years, protecting what little remains of a people King Vaelor has spent two decades burning into memory. When she steals the last relic of the Greenvale Sanctuary, a memorial carved with the names of the dead, she knows the Hound is coming. She doesn't know why he hesitates when he finds her.

Kael Ravaryn is a weapon. Forged from pain and infernal binding before he was old enough to choose it, maintained by alchemical potions, counted down like a candle no one intends to mourn. His orders are clear: hunt the Fox, recover the relic, leave nothing breathing. But in the ancient tunnels beneath the city, his fire doesn't consume her. It resonates.

She fights for the memory of the dead. He's been dying since he was seven. Earth magic and infernal fire shouldn't harmonize, but they do anyway, and whatever that means for the rebellion, for the king who owns him, for the presence slowly eating him alive, neither of them can afford to find out. He's still hunting. She's still running. The distance between enemy and something far more dangerous is closing with every step.

For dark rebellions, impossible sparks, and morally gray heroes slowly remembering they're human; scroll up and start reading.

🔥 Enemies to lovers

🔥 Hunter / hunted

🔥 Morally gray hero

🔥 Slow burn

🔥 He falls first

🔥 Fantasy rebellion

🔥 Spice: 🌶️🌶️