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Prologue

Nine years ago, I met a lark. From between the bars of a cage, I caught her peeking through the shadows. Her gaze had shoved its way into my soul like a defiant gust of wind, a mutiny in the making.

She’d crept toward me on bare feet, with a bird mask strapped to her face. Through beams of iron, we watched each other. Then she opened her mouth—and a storm flew through me. Her feisty, reckless words tore me to shreds and strung me back together.

Oh, but what else can I say about her?

If you’re brave enough to face this beautiful mortal, brace yourself. She will burst into your life like a gale, a force to be reckoned with. Her tongue will lash you as sharply as her whip.

But if you’re skilled, you might draw a moan from her lips. If you’re clever, you might earn her smirk.

If fate is on your side, she might kiss you. If you’re lucky, you might find a way to deserve it.

If you’re strong enough, you’ll leap into the void with her.

And if you’re very, very careful, you’ll survive the fall.

~ Ruler of the Sky

*

Nine years ago, a huntress stalked my ass. My leg had been caught between the teeth of an iron trap when it happened. The son of a bitch munched on my calf like a chew toy, and I’d been bleeding all over the forest floor, when I caught sight of her antlers.

Fakeantlers, which had pissed me off. Who the fuck wears a phony rack?

Her silhouette had been prowling through the woods. The antlers had been attached to a mask, the mask to a pinched face. Spruce green eyes sliced through the visor and targeted me.

Just like that, her candid gaze struck its mark and punctured my chest.

But it was the huntress’s steady hands that did me in, the way they shoved apart the foliage like she owned the wild, then dismantled the trap’s lock with quick motions, as if the contraption was made of paper, like it was a minor inconvenience.

And when she spoke in a smoky voice, my heart burned. So began my obsession with this mortal. Fuck, if she didn’t turn my heart into a stalker.

Take this seriously: If you hunt her, she’ll hunt you in return.

She won’t back down, will never back down. Not my woman.

If you aim, she’ll take you down first.

And if you’re smart, you’ll enjoy it.

~ Ruler of the Woodland

*

Nine years ago, a siren tried to drown me. Mortals had locked me inside a glass case filled with water. Yet through the darkness, her light appeared.

From outside the tank, gleaming irises swam through the murk, their radiance pouring into the container where I floated. Her stare anchored me in place—momentarily. For she was a human, and humans were toxic.

Fury had slithered up my fists. Hate had coursed through my blood. But when she rested her palms on the glass, I could not resist. I made my choice.

One breach. One touch.

She’d set her palm on the glass. Her warmth had seeped through and drawn my hand to hers, both of us pressing into the flat surface. Somehow, this fleeting contact caused my soul to rupture.

I wanted to punish her for this offense. I wanted to drag her under an abyss.

I wanted to keep her with me. I wanted to take her to the depths.