mending mayhem

So much for taming the savage demon.

Mayhem is the most difficult, infuriating man I have ever laid eyes on. So why is it that all I can think about is laying...ahem...myself on him?

My sister thinks he and I are fated mates. I think she’s taken one too many hits with a basilisk’s tail.

Me, fated to a demon prince? Not a chance.

Not that it matters, especially with the impending beasties of doom invasion on our horizon. Then there’s Discord, the final piece of the puzzle that could save everyone’s lives. We can’t summon him without some mystical amulet he lost in Salem four centuries ago.

Because that should be easy to find, right? Sheesh.

Hecate, have mercy. We’ll need it.