Stag King
Duncan Matthews
I didn't come to Camp Ironwood looking for love. I came looking for answers about my brother's past. About the summer he stopped talking and never really started again.
Instead I found:
A former Marine who guards me like I'm the mission he's been waiting for
A quiet naturalist whose careful hands make me forget how to breathe
A tech genius who kissed me "for science" and then completely short-circuited
I wasn't planning to fall for any of them. I definitely wasn't planning to fall for all three.
Then the bodies started dropping.
Someone is hunting us, staging kills like twisted art, leaving antlers in chests like a signature. The phones are dead. The cars won't start. Help isn't coming.
And the killer might be sitting across from me at the campfire, roasting marshmallows and smiling.
In horror movies, the final girl survives by staying smart, staying pure, staying alone.
Screw that.
If I'm going down, I'm going down fighting with three men at my back who've made it very clear they're not going anywhere.
Reverse harem romance dropped straight into an '80s slasher nightmare. Expect explicit content, graphic violence, multiple on-page deaths, and a guaranteed HEA for those who survive.
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