Roisin Vale wakes in a cursed forest, naked, bleeding, and watched by something ancient. The blood moon rises, and the Hunt begins-she is the prey.But these fae don't want to kill her. They want to own her.One hunts her like an obsession.One binds her with vines and bites.One punishes her with bruises and praise.One touches nothing... but carves her name into trees.And the last-silent, unknowable-waits inside her dreams.They chase her. Worship her. Break her. And in surrender, she becomes something else. Something wild. Something chosen.Her body is a battlefield. Her moans are prophecy.And she's about to turn the Hunt into a kingdom.Because prey doesn't kneel forever.Not when the forest whispers her name.