Everything changed the night my dad died. The night I met Saint, Galen, Caz, and Theo. Those manipulative a-holes set out to ruin me after our hot night together, but they didn’t realize you can’t destroy something that’s already broken. And it only works if the victim cares. Which I don’t. Because I’ve been in hell for years, and nothing penetrates the steel walls I’ve erected. Until the Sainthood decides I belong to them and cracks appear in my veneer. Their cruel games, harsh words, and rough touch awakens something inside me, and now, I’m in trouble.

I'm the girl you'll never see coming. Blink and you're dead—another target checked off my list. Until one night, my carefully ordered existence falls apart. A bloodbath and a car crash later, I find myself in the grasp of four gorgeous, intimidating men. My captors claim they're holding me for my protection. I can't quite believe that.

Being the twin of a movie star isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Eva is glamorous, sweet, and everything I’m not. Believe me, every person in my life has made that crystal clear. The press calls me the Ice Queen, leaving pack after pack broken in my wake. I wish it were true. All I’ve ever wanted was a pack—to be loved and cherished the way an Omega was meant to be—but now I’ve given up hope. Every group I meet wants a copy of my sister. Let’s not even mention the ones who called me by her name.

All I wanted was to find answers to who I was. No one knew who had abandoned the gray-eyed baby with fiery red hair and a cry loud enough to make a man's nuts retract. I moved to Arbor Falls to find myself. Little did I know I'd be thrown into a world I didn't know existed. A world with wolves at each other's throats and enough pack politics and danger to make my head spin. Then there's the fact that I have more than one mate. Not all of them accept me because there's one gigantic problem: I'm not what they expected.

"Do you want some Goldfish crackers, Bliss?" Those were the last words my brother said to me before he was shot execution style. A childhood code only he and I knew, and one that had a single, clear meaning behind it.