Evran has everything he never dared to want. A home in the mountains. A place among the Drakkari. And Vaike, the Warlord who chose him when he could have anyone. When the clans gather at Heldrin's End for a diplomatic summit, Evran expects politics and posturing. What he doesn't expect is Torsten, Vaike's estranged half-brother, who watches Evran with lingering eyes and speaks of Vaike's rule as though it has an expiration date. Then an assassin comes for Vaike in the night, and the threats stop being theoretical. With no proof and no path to justice, Evran makes a dangerous he will get close to Torsten himself. Close enough to uncover the conspiracy and close enough to end it. It means playing a role that makes his skin crawl, wielding charm like a blade, and keeping secrets from the one person who trusts him without question. Evran has always been the soft one. The gardener. The weaver. The quiet boy from the south who never had anything to lose until six months ago. But no one told Torsten what happens when you threaten the thing a man loves most. Claiming the Warlord is a direct sequel to Tribute to the Warlord and should be read in order.

He designed the world. He didn't expect to fall into it.Elliot Ravensong Mercer is twenty-two, overworked, and allergic to fantasy tropes. He is a narrative designer in Seattle. He writes the runes. He balances the heat cycles. He is, by Monday's deadline, supposed to finish the omegaverse monetization bible his best friend Sarah has been forcing on the team for a month — a bible he does not believe in and a slider he does not approve of.On Thursday at 2:47 AM, he falls through his monitor.He lands at the feet of Prince Fenrikael Vargrhjarta Ulfsvarri — commander of the Northern Guard, four hundred and twenty-seven years old, silver-haired, wolf-kin, and disastrously inconvenienced by the presence of a small foreign heretic whose scent is doing things to his keep's entire standing garrison.Elliot has a slight problem. He has a rune on the back of his neck no one can read. He has a heat cycle he did not know he was biologically capable of. He has an ice-blue prince who keeps punching lakes open for him and staring at him in the middle of battles. And somewhere in a Seattle office, his best friend is refreshing his Slack for the eighth day running.The slider, it turns out, was not the bug. It was the feature.Inside this ⚔ Portal fantasy — game designer falls into his own RPG🐺 True Alpha Wolf Prince — silver braid, four-century age gap, bites on sight🔥 First heat / fated mates — the rune was drawn the winter he was born💻 Slow burn to very high heat — with knotting, scent-marking, and one (1) extremely specific dream🏰 Ulfheim — glacier fortress, frost-elk, northern siege, and one very tired lieutenant💍 HEA guaranteed — across a three-book saga. Book One ends with a bite and a bond.For fans of Alessandra Hazard, Leta Blake, and anyone who has ever this keep is running legacy code.Reader Intended for readers 18 and older. Contains on-page sexual content, strong language, and mature themes including knotting, heat cycles, first-time experiences, a 400-year age gap, bonding bites, and graphic monster combat. Please read responsibly.

He designed the world. He didn't expect to fall into it.Elliot Ravensong Mercer is twenty-two, overworked, and allergic to fantasy tropes. He is a narrative designer in Seattle. He writes the runes. He balances the heat cycles. He is, by Monday's deadline, supposed to finish the omegaverse monetization bible his best friend Sarah has been forcing on the team for a month — a bible he does not believe in and a slider he does not approve of.On Thursday at 2:47 AM, he falls through his monitor.He lands at the feet of Prince Fenrikael Vargrhjarta Ulfsvarri — commander of the Northern Guard, four hundred and twenty-seven years old, silver-haired, wolf-kin, and disastrously inconvenienced by the presence of a small foreign heretic whose scent is doing things to his keep's entire standing garrison.Elliot has a slight problem. He has a rune on the back of his neck no one can read. He has a heat cycle he did not know he was biologically capable of. He has an ice-blue prince who keeps punching lakes open for him and staring at him in the middle of battles. And somewhere in a Seattle office, his best friend is refreshing his Slack for the eighth day running.The slider, it turns out, was not the bug. It was the feature.Inside this ⚔ Portal fantasy — game designer falls into his own RPG🐺 True Alpha Wolf Prince — silver braid, four-century age gap, bites on sight🔥 First heat / fated mates — the rune was drawn the winter he was born💻 Slow burn to very high heat — with knotting, scent-marking, and one (1) extremely specific dream🏰 Ulfheim — glacier fortress, frost-elk, northern siege, and one very tired lieutenant💍 HEA guaranteed — across a three-book saga. Book One ends with a bite and a bond.For fans of Alessandra Hazard, Leta Blake, and anyone who has ever this keep is running legacy code.Reader Intended for readers 18 and older. Contains on-page sexual content, strong language, and mature themes including knotting, heat cycles, first-time experiences, a 400-year age gap, bonding bites, and graphic monster combat. Please read responsibly.

It’s off to the races in the explosive eighth book in the Dungeon Crawler Carl series. As chaos and mass panic spread outside the dungeon in the wake of Faction Wars, Carl and Donut find themselves on the tenth floor, where they’re forced to compete in a surprisingly normal set of tasks. Well, normal for the dungeon. Races. Get from point A to point B, and don’t come in last. After each race, they pick an upgrade for their vehicle and the track gets more challenging. It all seems a little too normal, a little too simple. Ignore those strange glitches that are occurring with increasing frequency. Don’t listen to those whispers about what’s happening on the mysterious eleventh floor, something the system AI calls A Parade of Horribles. Nobody, not even the showrunners, knows what that means. Just that the AI has ominously dubbed it “a coming-out party for the ages.” Everything is fine, Crawler. I repeat, everything is fine. Carl hates that it’s business as usual. The rules of this floor have taken away his agency. That just will not do. So Carl is planning a party of his own. It’s a plan so dangerous, so insane, he can’t even consult his friends lest the AI put a stop to it. Because if it goes wrong, it’s not just the end of Carl and Donut. No. The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been.