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Prologue: The Crossing
The veil between worlds was thinnest during the Starfall Convergence.
Theron stood at the boundary of his territory, watching the mortal realm shimmer beyond the ancient stones. Three hundred years he'd ruled the Autumn Court. Three centuries of treaties and blood feuds, of political machinations and careful control.
And in all that time, he'd never felt the bone-deep pull of recognition.
Until tonight.
Her scent reached him first—wild orchids and rain, threaded through with something uniquely mortal. Something that made his Fae nature rise to the surface, hungry and demanding.
She'd crossed the threshold. Walked past the warning stones as if they meant nothing, her attention focused on some flowering vine that glowed silver in the convergence light.
Foolish mortal. Beautiful, reckless, utterly foolish mortal.
Theron's court would demand her life for the trespass. Ancient law was clear: mortals who crossed uninvited during the convergence forfeited their right to leave.
But as he watched her examine the luminescent flower with wonder in her eyes, something in his chest—something he'd thought long dead—stirred to life.
"Mine," his magic whispered, recognizing what his mind refused to accept.
She was his mate. His destiny. The one the old seers had promised would come when the stars aligned.
And she had no idea she'd just walked into a trap three hundred years in the making.
Theron stepped from the shadows, his form materializing in the mortal realm. The woman looked up, and their eyes met across the clearing.
Even from this distance, he could see her pupils dilate, could hear her breath catch. The bond snapped into place between them, invisible but undeniable.
"Hello, little flower," he said softly, his voice carrying on the wind. "Welcome to my domain."
She opened her mouth to speak—perhaps to scream—but the words never came.
Because in that moment, the convergence completed, and the veil slammed shut.
Trapping her in his world. Exactly as he'd planned.
Twenty-four hours earlier...
Dr. Lyra Chen was not having a good week.
First, her research grant had been denied. Again. Then her ex-boyfriend had shown up at her lab with his new girlfriend—who just happened to be the department chair's daughter. And now, on what was supposed to be her relaxing solo camping trip, her GPS had died and she was fairly certain she was lost.
"This is fine," she muttered, pushing through another wall of undergrowth. "You have a PhD. You can navigate by moss and stars and... other science things."
The forest around her was stunning, at least. Ancient trees towered overhead, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the afternoon light into something almost magical. And the plant life—god, the plant life was unlike anything she'...
Dante Rivers spent a decade traveling through the forests and ancient ruins of Eastern Europe, collecting folklore and mythology that would later breathe life into his supernatural romances. A researcher at heart, he became fascinated by the primal stories of shapeshifters, vampires, and fated mates that transcend cultures. From his cabin deep in the Pacific Northwest woods, Dante channels these ancient tales into modern paranormal romance. His unique perspective as a male author brings authenticity to the alpha male psyche—the struggle between beast and man, the protective instinct, the all-consuming need to claim one's mate.
