Almost twenty years after the barrier between Earth and the Otherworld fell in the Fae Wars, Budapest is balancing on the precipice. A battle for dominance is brewing between the elite fae and the privileged humans in Eastern Europe. The prejudice between the sides is bubbling with hate and violence. Nineteen-year-old human, Brexley, has grown up in privilege, but not without heartbreak. After being orphaned, she is taken in by General Markos, living in a walled city rife with power grabs and ruthless political games. Then one night the course of her life changes, and Brexley is thrown into the most feared prison in the east. Terrorhaz—where you go in but don’t come out. She must learn to live with the worst of fae and human criminals. The rule of hierarchy puts humans on the bottom, where the only way to survive each day is to make alliances with the fae.Here she meets the sexy, vicious legend, Warwick Farkas. A myth among man and fae. He is as brutal, cruel, arrogant, and as lethal as the lore says he is, ruling the prison with unchallenged authority. Brexley can’t deny an intense draw to him, one that might cost her life.If The Games don’t take her out first—A fight to the death where only one survives.
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His long, dark hair was pulled back, heavy scruff cut along his strong jawline, displaying his full bottom lip. His unnerving aqua eyes slid slowly over the room like fingers caressing a body. The bright color against his olive skin and black hair and lashes made them pop out like laser beams set on you. With one foot on a bench seat, he leaned against the wall, his arm draped over his knee, a king watching over his domain, taking everything in. Alpha. Brutal. Raw. Dangerous. Terrifying. Sensual. Everything about him was severe. Even sitting, I could tell he had to be taller than six foot seven. His tattoo-covered arms, shredded with muscles, exhibited physical strength. Even the loose V-neck uniform curved snugly around his biceps, chest, and pecs. Intensity, power, dominance, and violence danced around him as if they were the only things daring to be near him. He appeared at ease, but every touch of his gaze over the room suggested he could kill before the enemy even knew he moved. Peering through his dark lashes, his gaze met mine, and making me feel I had been punched in the stomach, ripping the air from my lungs. My heart thumped against my ribs like it came to life or knew it was about to die, drumming the final chords in my life. Against the cotton, my nipples hardened, instantly reacting to the intense energy moving around me. Fuck. Me.
Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and sarcastic heroines who kick butt. She also enjoys books, travel, TV shows, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Stacey swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts. She volunteers helping animals and is Eco-friendly. She feels all animals, people, and environment should be treated kindly.