With my plasma gone—burned out when that psycho Alchemist tried to use me as a bomb—I'm actually relieved. Thomas Newberry is dead and can't hurt anyone else. And if I have no power, I'm not a threat anymore. People will stop trying to kill me and my loved ones. Right? Wrong. Sometimes defeating one monster only reveals the bigger, meaner one right behind it. There are fates worse than death, anyway. Like imprisonment by a Fae Queen who's convinced I'm her granddaughter and isn't interested in a family reunion. Obsessed with her legacy and the waning fertility of the Fae, she wants babies. And she doesn't care about little things like consent. I'm no hero, but I won't go down without a fight. It's time to reclaim my birthright.