Chapter 1 The Mercenary Queen Comes Home The night was dark as pitch, the air crisp and biting. The stench of gunpowder and blood lingered, thick and heavy. Crealand was anything but peaceful that night. "Sir... Eden's here!" The voice crackled through the comms, shaky with fear. It cut off with a scream, followed by the sickening thump of a body hitting the floor. In a tacky, over-the-top mansion straight out of a fairytale, the guy gripping the comms device bolted upright, his face white as a sheet. He spun around-and froze when a cold blade kissed his throat. The knife tilted, and blood trickled down his neck. His stomach dropped. He should've seen it coming. With Eden's rep, escape was a pipe dream. But he didn't think she'd move this fast. "Eden, Ravenhold's gonna lose it!" he blurted, voice shaking. "Susmon Region's got your number. You're nuts if you think-" He never finished. The blade sank deeper, and he collapsed like a ragdoll, eyes wide with shock. In his last moment, he saw his killer casually wipe the blood off her knife on his jacket. She lifted her chin, revealing a sharp, Theonian face. A sixteen-year-old girl. Ravenhold's ten-year masterpiece, a mercenary who could take down armies-Eden-was just a teenager. He tried to lift a hand, some desperate attempt to fight back, but his body only twitched a couple times before going limp. Eden Wright slid her knife back into its sheath, her expression ice-cold, like she was staring at a pile of garbage. "Eden, you screwed up big time," a voice buzzed in her earpiece, smooth but nervous. "That dude was Crimson Circle's head honcho. Susmon Region's got his back. How're you gonna smooth this over with Crimson Circle? Or Ravenhold?" "No need to smooth anything over with dead guys," Eden said, her voice light, like she was picking out pizza toppings. "Crimson's toast. Took 'em all out." "What?!" The guy on the other end nearly choked. "You wiped out all of Crimson Circle?" "No way, Eden, you really did it?" His voice cracked, like he couldn't believe his ears. "You're not yanking my chain, are you?" Eden just gave a quick "Mhm." The line went quiet, like the guy forgot how to talk. Everyone knew Eden was a badass, but this? This was insane. All because Crimson got the bright idea to use her as a guinea pig, she'd stormed their base solo and burned their whole operation to the ground. Crimson Circle wasn't some rinky-dink crew. They were tied to Susmon Region's big shots, a crew of top-tier killers. Most hitmen would be lucky to walk out of their base alive, let alone take the whole place down. Eden? She was a walking nightmare. After a long twenty seconds, the voice came back, barely a whisper. "What about Ravenhold?" "I'm ditching Susmon Region for a bit," Eden said, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Those old geezers made me what I am. They better be ready to deal with the blowback." She cut the comms, her eyes dark and unreadable. Susmon Region's tentacles reached every corner of the globe, except one country they couldn't touch. She'd been out in the world too long. Ten years had passed since she left Theonia. It was high time she dropped in on some old friends. ***** Theonia, a quiet little suburb on the edge of Drea City. The Wright family's old mansion had a strange buzz that day, all because of a visitor who brought the past roaring back to life. When the doorbell first rang, nobody gave it a second thought. But then Quinten, the butler, picked up the gatehouse phone. "Wait, what? Miss Wright's back? You mean Eden?" That name-Eden-stopped everyone cold. It hadn't been uttered in years, but it hit like a freight train, stirring up memories nobody dared touch. The Wrights were Drea City's elite, the kind of family with a big name and bigger secrets. Two decades ago, they'd joined forces with the Nelson family through marriage, and four years later, they welcomed a daughter-Eden. But when she was six, traffickers stole her away. Gone, no trace. Her mom, Madeline, fell apart. A year later, a car crash ended her grief for good. Raymond, Eden's dad, didn't stay single long. Within a year, he married a divorced woman from the Torres family, taking on her son and daughter like a package deal. Quinten was still on the phone, sounding shook. "Yeah, let her in..." The heavy front door swung open, and there she stood-a young woman who could've walked off a movie set. Her beautiful eyes sparkled like they held the night sky, framed by soft brows, and the sunlight streaming in behind her cast delicate shadows from her long lashes across her flawless cheeks. Her lips were red without a hint of gloss, her face so striking it was like spring and moonlight had a baby. But her vibe? Ice-cold. Not a flicker of warmth. Celia hustled into the foyer, eyeing the stranger. She slapped on a smile, ready to speak, when a younger voice cut through. "Mom, who's this girl?" A teenager, maybe a year shy of Eden's age, leaned over the staircase railing, staring hard. Eden flicked her a glance but didn't take the bait. Instead, she turned to the butler. "Hey, Quinten, what's with the strangers crashing my place?" Celia's smile froze like she'd been hit with a bucket of cold water. 'This isn't just any homecoming.' A Wright heiress, kidnapped for over a decade, torn from her own world-one'd figure life would've dulled her edges. But nah. She clocked strangers in her family's mansion and didn't miss a beat, grilling the butler like she'd never left. Quinten blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, Miss Wright, they're not strangers. This is Mr. Wright's wife now-your stepmom. And this is Julie, your... well, your sister." Celia jumped in, her smile polite but stiff. "So you're Eden. Raymond's told me about you. It's great you're back. If 'stepmom' feels off, just call me Celia." Julie, lurking in the back, looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. Her face flickered jealousy before she mumbled, "Hey, Eden." Eden shot her a quick look. She'd been around the block enough to read people like a book, and she had a hunch about these two. But she wasn't here to play guess-who. She'd shown up in Theonia to duck some trouble brewing in Susmon Region. Once the heat was off, she'd bounce. Over the years, drifting through Susmon, she'd kept tabs on the Wrights. She knew her dad had moved on, got himself a new wife, the whole deal. If the Wright name could still open a few doors, sweet. If it just stirred up drama, well, she'd handle it. Outside, tires screeched on the gravel, brakes squealing loud. Quinten's face lit up like he'd won the lottery. "That's Mr. Wright! Miss Eden, when he hears you're back, he's gonna flip-in the best way."