Three years ago I fled my gangster ex and went into hiding. Three days ago, he found me. The Hail Mary heist I pulled to escape his clutches once again, went sideways seven ways to Sunday, and left me in a dark alley behind a seedy bar with a man dying at my feet.

If I’d known the man was a dark sorcerer, I never would have picked his pocket. And I wouldn’t have discovered the hard way that the rune I took possessed coveted, powerful magic. But heck. I was desperate. I had to get away, even if it meant selling the object to a hot AF stranger who by all accounts was as dangerous as my ex. 

He’s the one who says I’m out of my league, that I’m better off giving him the relic because keeping it will just draw all sorts of baddies to my doorstep. And while all that may be true, the sorcerer I crossed is threatening to wear my skin if I don’t return it. Like yesterday.

The problem with doing that is the arrogant SOB just stole the thing from me…

My only hope seems to lie with the hot AF but arrogant man who assures me he is the answer, if only I give him the rune tile. But if he thinks I’m just going to hand over the one thing that can save my life, he doesn’t know Isabella Hush.

Because the sorcerer she crossed and the fae hunting her are far worse than the violent ex she’s running from.

And they want more than just to get the rune back…