Go to Ireland, they said. It can only be you, they said. It’ll be fun.
Okay, okay, the king and queen of the Scottish Wolves didn’t say that fun part.
But I’m still trying to figure out why they’re sending me, a broke, recently unemployed, stuck-back-in-her-childhood-bedroom-opposite-of-a-diplomat she-wolf, to broker peace between them and the Irish Wolves.
The Irish Bears hosting the summit specifically requested me, and they refuse to explain why they insisted it couldn’t be anyone else. Then I get shoved into a lake.
A lake that turns out to be a fating portal. A portal that shoots me thousands of years into the past. So, y’know, now I really have to ask… Was I invited to Ireland?
Or summoned there by three emerald-colored beasts who will do anything—and I cannot stress the italics on this hard enough, any-truly-epic-thing—to claim me as theirs. Forever. Three dragon gods.
One innocent named Dorie. A prophecy that will change everything.
