All Jet wanted was an iced coffee and to make it to thirty-one without the universe assigning her a destiny. Then she went and saved a dying, bitchy dragon on a mountain summit with nothing but a bear-spray hand grenade, and somehow managed to forge her own.

The Veil’s been lifted, and the myths are real, but unfortunately for the legends still breathing, Jet just became one. She’s a cosmic anomaly, and her clinical need for control has manifested as a sky-kingdom-leveling black hole with a temper even shorter than hers. If the darkness itself doesn’t end her, the power-hungry siphon out to deplete every ounce of magic definitely will.

And so would Rift Atlas. To him, Jet’s the face of the people who slaughtered his own. And to her, he’s a trope waiting to happen. But she could be the weapon he needs to win a losing war, and his light happens to be the only thing that can contain the darkness that’s destroying her. So they strike a deal: Rift will teach her what he knows, but Jet must submit to his deadly domain and train alongside the ruthless warriors who want her head.

Between her own restless shadows and the man hunting her for them, Jet must seize control before one of them consumes her. Because if she can’t, she’ll be forced to accept that the real myth was that this dying world needed a reluctant heroine, and that her destiny is to be the one who finally shelves the story.