Hi, I'm Eve Wakefield, twenty-five years old, professional caterer, recently abducted by aliens alongside my best friend. I'm also completely and utterly screwed. Lost on a jungle planet. Rooming in a downed spaceship with a dragon dude. Being hunted by a moth man with demon eyes and vampire teeth. Begging for help from a tentacle-tailed fox man who also happens to be… a space cowboy?

It was supposed to be simple. All of that changed in a single breath. Because it turns out I'm not human. And I just knocked out the power on an entire city block. In a split second, all of my carefully-laid plans go up in smoke. There's no chance for college because I'm being hauled off to Kingwood Academy. They say it's for my own protection and those around me. But I know one thing for sure . . . I'm not welcome here.

Once upon a time, a handsome prince asked the academy wallflower to the ball. She was blinded by the stars in her own eyes and the pitter-patter of her lonely heart. Little did she know this prince was no prince at all, but a villain disguised behind a charming smile.

They say monsters are made. I was born one. With an angelic face and a cursed talent, I eat magic and ask for seconds. When I pass through the land, flowers wither, earth scorches, and colors bleed out—all at the command of my father, the God of Ruin. I escaped his prison, only to stumble upon a dangerous school ruled by five heirs. Girls fight to fall into their laps, even though they’re all hot mess assholes.

A simple promise I made to myself after escaping a brutal childhood of abuse and being trained to enact violence on unblessed witches. Since that moment, I've managed to survive on the streets by successfully pickpocketing. Unfortunately, after years of hiding, the monster who stars in all my nightmares is closer than ever, and I'm faced with only one option—to seek refuge at the Dark Imaginarium Academy. The Academy is filled with the elite witches of our society. I should have expected I'd run into some of my previous targets. Normally, that wouldn't be a proble—except for my last hit.