Dirty Kingdoms

They won’t like the result.

I’ve spent the last few years hiding who—what—I am, but Rovan won’t stop looking, trying to figure out what I’m hiding behind the mask. 

When he sees the real me, I expect him to run screaming. 

But underneath his smiles, the wicked prince is something just as terrifying as me. 

We might just make a half decent team.

If we don’t kill each other first. 

The cold king has many choice words for my mother, and I can’t disagree. 

If only he didn’t extend his judgment of her to me.

Zale’s only prepared to tolerate my existence so long as he can use and humiliate me—and to my endless shame, I can’t resist his spells, no matter how much I despise him.

Until I do.

No one is supposed to be immune to his magic, but I manage to push it. 

And he might just destroy me for it. 

You’re welcome to try, royal d#ck. 

A simple enough concept, and one I generally agree with. But the dark prince wants me to buy the priceless relic I destroyed with my mouth and my hands, reducing me to the role of a toy. 

I can’t understand why. He can have just about anyone on their knees, so why is he wasting his time with me? 

At least, he doesn’t want the dark magic running in my veins. 

Yet.