Novels by Steph Starry

The room was quiet as Raphael, Ragnar, Caden, and Luna Zyrah all watched her, like the fate of the world depended on the words sitting heavy on her tongue. Ember swallowed, her throat was tight but she already knew the answer. She’d known it the second Ragnar helped them that night in the woods and from how he treated and protected his sister. But knowing didn’t make it easier.She didn’t want to hurt Raphael, not with the way his eyes were pleading and desperate and full of history she still didn’t understand. He was with Kaya when she had being taken to Thorne’s mansion and he no doubt protected her too.But this wasn’t about comfort or friendship, or even who came first. This was about who Kaya needed now.Ember shifted her gaze slowly, locking eyes with Raphael calmly despite the weight in her chest.“She’ll need someone strong,” she said quietly. “Someone who won’t hesitate in making decisions that’s best for her.”Then she turned to Ragnar.“It should be you. I’m trusting you to

A ruckus echoed through the quiet halls of Bloodveil, dragging Ember out of her sleep rudely. The distant sounds of shouting were loud and tore through the silence of the night. She jolted upright, eyes wide, her heart pounding as her feet hit the floor. Barefoot and still half asleep, Ember rushed out of her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she ran down the staircase. She nearly tripped over the debris scattered on the ground, but she kept moving, adrenaline taking her through every step.By the time she reached the courtyard, the chaos was obvious.Caden was in the center of the chaos, shouting at Thorne’s guards who stood in a tight circle around him and Raphael. The tension was thick like a fight was about to break out any second.Ember caught sight of a familiar figure, struggling against a few of Thorne’s guards beside that, who were holding him back with all their strength. His face, although it was bruised and bloodied, was unmistakable.Ragnar.Without thinking, Embe

Thorne stood in the courtyard with his arms clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if he could stare hard enough to bring her back to him. The morning air was cold. General Halister stood a few steps behind him, silent until Thorne finally spoke.“Well?”“They were there,” Halister said, his voice low. “Serene and Darius. In an inn on the edge of the border. But by the time my men got there…” He shook his head. “they had disappeared with no trace”Thorne didn’t react, he barely seemed to care. Darius was a coward, and he would see him from a mile away if he ever tried anything. Serene was undoubtedly miserable with Darius who had nothing to offer her, in terms of wealth which she desperately craved. His mind was elsewhere. “And Bloodveil?” he asked, turning slightly. “Bloodveil is stable,” Halister replied. “Guards are posted day and night. Nothing unusual to report.”“Still just a playground for the guards?”Halister hesitated. “Yes, for now.”Thorne turned ful

Back at Bloodveil, Luna Zyrah, recovered, sat up in the bed, her sharp eyes cutting through the dim light of the room. There was no softness in her tone when she spoke. “How did you survive all these years, Ember?” Her gaze flickered to Caden for a second, but she didn’t acknowledge him further. Ember stood stiffly beside the bed, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I survived. Day by day.”Caden leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, avoiding eye contact, clearly uncomfortable with the moment.Zyrah didn’t waste time. “I missed you. But I want the truth. How’d you end up here?” Her eyes locked on Ember’s, calculating. “Sold to Thorne’s pack, I hear? Must’ve been a hard bargain.”Ember’s stomach twisted. She avoided her mother’s gaze. “It wasn’t easy,” she said quickly, skimming over the details. “But I managed.”Silence settled between them, thick with unasked questions yet Zyrah’s sharp eyes never left her. “Have you met him yet?”Ember’s heart stuttered. “What do you mean

Stella sat with her back against a tree, the small carving knife gripped in her hand as she worked on the piece of wood, shaping it little by little into the form of a wolf. Her strokes were slow and careful, the quiet scrape of blade against bark echoing around her.Then, some movement. She barely had time to react before a figure slipped into view from her side, moving too quietly for comfort. She shot to her feet, the knife gripped tightly in her fingers, heart hammering against her ribs.Collin.The moonlight caught the glint in his eye, a wicked, amused expression pulling at his mouth. He hadn’t meant to be caught, or maybe he had.Stella took a slow step back, her wary gaze locked onto him. “What do you want?”Collin tilted his head, his hands tucked into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. “Relax, little wolf,” he said, voice smooth and too easy. “Just curious. You and Caden, huh?”Her grip on the knife tightened. “That’s not your business.”Collin let out a low

Ember stood on the crumbling balcony of what was once her family’s mansion, the wind cold against her skin as she stared out over their ruined territory. The sight of it still made her angry, this place, once filled with life, was now nothing but decayed. Bloodveil belonged to Thorne now.And inside her… so did a piece of him.Her hand moved to her stomach, the weight of her secret pressing on her heavier than ever. But before she could sink too deep into her thoughts, a voice tore through the silence.“Ember!”She turned sharply to Caden’s voice, the urgency in it sending her pulse racing. It was coming from their parents room.Her heart pounding, she rushed inside, her footfalls echoing through the abandoned halls until she reached the doorway. Caden was hunched over their mother’s still form, his hands gripping the the sheets. He looked up at Ember, his eyes wide with disbelief.“She twitched,” he breathed. “I think she’s about to wake up.”Ember rushed to her mother’s side, pressi

(Gloria)Elena sinks into the chair beside me, picking up the halfempty wine bottle on the table. “So… everything’s unraveling fast, huh?”I let the rim of the glass rest on my lips before I answer. “Apocalyptic.”She winces. “Sorry.”I shrug stiffly. “Don’t be. Eleanor Montclair doesn’t back down. I’ll give her that.”There’s a beat of silence, then Elena says quietly, “You admire her?”I scoff. “No. Maybe. Hell, I don’t even know. She’s scary but effective. She sent me this ridiculous form to fill out, and when I hesitated, she hit me with so much legal jargon, I thought I’d be arrested for lying about my blood type.”Elena lets out a low whistle. “She really did her daughter-in-law homework.”“Thoroughly,” I mutter, setting the glass down harder than I mean to. “Shame her son isn’t going along without a fight”Elena shifts. “He was angry…”“He was humiliated,” I cut in. “And now he thinks marrying me is the worst decision of his life.”Elena clears her throat. “Jordan hasn’t called

(Gabriel)The moment I step out of the car back home, flashes go off like fireworks from the cameras shoved into my face, with reporters barking questions I have zero interest in answering.“Mr. Montclair, is it true you fired your secretary?”“Was the relationship ever real?”“Did she seduce you for the money?”I keep walking with my sunglasses on. Let them feast on the scraps because I’m here for the queen of manipulation herself.I push open the grand double doors and make my way inside without a word to the housekeepers who bow and scurry out of my way. Up the marble stairs, past the lifeless portraits of smiling men I never cared to resemble, and straight to her favorite room, the tea room.The door’s already open of course. She probably wants this to feel casual and warm. My mother sits by the window elegantly like she’s been waiting for me to arrive. She smiles like I’m her darling boy coming home from war.“Gabriel,” she says softly, patting the velvet cushion beside her. “Co

(Gabriel) The saltwater clings to my skin as I step out of the ocean, feeling the waves pull away from me with each step forward and i take a deep breath to enjoy the tropical air. Hawaii’s warm breeze is supposed to wash away the anger, frustration, and chaos of my life, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t do a damn thing to numb the knot in my stomach or the rage simmering just beneath the surface of my skin.I make my way to the beach dragging my board behind me, the sound of the ocean drowned out by the rush in my ears. The soft sand shifts under my feet as I approach the edge of the beach, and that’s when I see them.Two women. Tall, tanned, and wearing almost nothing. They’re eyeing me up like I’m their next meal. I don’t blame them, no doubt the waves have done wonders for my physique.The blonde is the first to speak. “Nice ride out there,” she says with flirtation in her voice.I glance over to them disinterestedly. I’m not in the mood for small talk. But then I notice the brunette.

(Gloria)My phone rings and I almost drop it. Eleanor Montclair.Her name stares back at me like it’s been branded on my screen. I freeze, every one of my muscles tightening. Suddenly, the idea of crying over a documentary feels like a warm up for the real horror show to come .Because if there’s one person who’s probably angrier than Gabriel right now, it’s his mother.I imagine her standing in a designer robe, swirling a glass of wine like a villain from a movie, already drafting the legal papers to sue me into poverty. I picture myself back on Elena’s couch begging for space, struggling to afford groceries, and eating cheap ramen in bulk while I try to pay back…The phone buzzes again in my palm demanding an answer.Shit. Okay.I swipe. “Hello?”No greeting and no hesitation.“I’ll pay it back,” I blurt. “Please. Just give me a payment plan or something. I… I know the contract’s over, but I swear I’ll find a way. You don’t have to take me to court or ruin my life or… ”“Gloria,” El

(Gloria)I stare at the door hoping it might swing back open like Gabriel forgot something, maybe his sanity, maybe his heart. Maybe the part of him that didn’t just threaten me like a mafia boss in a three piece suit.But no. It stays shut.And I’m just standing there, jaw slack and completely, spectacularly, ruined.“Welp,” I whisper, blinking. “I think that went well.”A tiny, pitiful laugh bubbles out of me but it dies as fast as it came.I take a step forward, my knees buckle. Okay. That’s fine. That’s totally okay. I’ve been through worse.…Haven’t I?Then I collapse onto the floor in a heap, one arm flopped over my stomach like I’ve just been fatally wounded in battle. Maybe I have. The battle of the heart. The war of love. The massacre of dignity.And then it happens, the sobs.Real ones, loud and messy. Not those pretty movie tears. Nope. This is the kind of crying that makes your face puff up like a marshmallow and your nose run like a broken faucet.I bury my face in my han

(Gabriel)“Well?” I ask, the word coming out as more of a command than a question. My eyes rake over her coldly but inside, a storm is raging. She looks like a mess, unkept, terrified, and I can barely keep it together.I’m fighting every impulse not to grab her and shake the answers out of her, demanding she tell me what the hell is going on. Instead, I stand there stiffly, my fists clenched at my sides trying to control the rage that’s boiling in my veins.Kate had walked into my office earlier, slamming that tablet down in front of me with an expression that said ‘you need to see this’. The documentary was everywhere, the headline hitting me like a slap across the face: Ex-Drug Dealer’s Secret Contract to Marry Montclair CEO. The words felt like they burned into my skin.Gloria, an ex-drug dealer working with her trash of an ex, Ethan. And then the real kicker, a contract from my mother, Eleanor Montclair, to marry me for money. All over the media. I’m still trying to wrap my head