Dark Romance, Romantic Suspense
Oath
Book 4 in the BLOOD Brothers
This series must be read in chronological order, to avoid spoilers
Blood. Fury. Desire. That’s how our oath was made—and how it will be kept.
They say war changes people. I say it reveals them.
Over the past few months, I’ve watched the men I once called my captors become something else entirely—my fiercest allies, my deepest weakness, and the only ones I trust when everything goes to hell. They move like a unit, fight like wolves, and bleed like men who’ve been broken and rebuilt too many times.
And now they’re fighting for me. For us.
The search for Amorette is no longer just mine—it’s ours. We’ve cut off one head of the serpent, but the body still writhes, coiled tight around secrets none of us saw coming. When the call came for the fifth man in their fractured brotherhood, we didn’t hesitate. They’ve helped me search for my blood. Now it’s my turn to stand for theirs.
But with every answer, more questions rise. Loyalties shift. Lines blur. The deeper we dig, the more I realize this isn’t just about my sister anymore. This is about something bigger, darker—something that won’t let us go without a fight.
And still, they look at me like I’m theirs. Not a possession, not a hostage, but a woman who has carved her place beside them in fire and fury.
So when I set my plan into motion, they don’t stop me—they stand beside me. Armed. Ready. Unshakable.
I won’t lose my sister.
I won’t lose them.
And if I have to burn everything to the ground to protect the people I love—
Then let it burn.
*Please note this is a reverse harem and the author suggests you always read the foreword in her books. Contains some dark elements including trauma in the present day and the past, as well as mature situations, and is definitely intended for 18+ This is book FOUR of FIVE total.
Read an Excerpt
Oath
Excerpt
Jump to Ordering Options ↓
Prologue
Bones
There are some calls a man never wants to get. And some calls—well, you know they’re coming. Whether you’re the guy who enlisted or the one left behind, fate doesn’t skip your number forever.
Me? I didn’t have anyone waiting for me. Not for a long time. No one to devastate. No one to disappoint. I liked it that way. Cleaner. Safer. For them, and for me.
Over the years, I’d made a lot of those calls. Delivered bad news. Knocked on too many doors. The Army always sent someone, but if I could, I followed up. Reached out. Spoke to the families, the wives, the kids—the survivors.
My words couldn’t bring anyone back. But sometimes, they could serve as a shield. Let grief punch something. Let guilt land somewhere. When I could, I told stories. Gave them a piece of who that soldier was—who they were to us. It wasn’t much, but it mattered.
Stephanie James and I had spoken four times.
The first time was fifteen hours after the ambush that took the lower half of Alphabet’s right leg and burned forty percent of Doc’s body. Both men had been medevaced out. We followed.
The second call came after the doctors confirmed Doc would live, though his road ahead would be long and brutal. He’d be heading back Stateside. The third call wasn’t mine—it was her returning my message after he arrived.
The fourth came when he started school. He was out of the hospital, trying to build something new. We kept tabs on him. I’d never leave one of mine behind. His sister was all he had, so I made sure she knew how to reach us—any time, any reason.
Doc called a few times over the years. Nothing big—intel, help with something small. We handled it, no questions asked. He’d done the same for us, more than once. When he asked for help with those prisoners they freed, we showed up.
And that’s when Grace entered our lives. Doc gave her to us, and for that, we probably owed him more than I can ever repay.
So when he called again, needing help, there was never a question.
“Doc?” Lunchbox said when the line went quiet.
“I’m here,” Doc answered, voice low.
Lunchbox asked, “How bad is it?”
A breath. Then—
“They killed my sister.”
The words hit like a gut-shot. Four syllables—just four—but they carried a weight that bent the air. Grief. Rage. The kind of pain that leaves you hollow and burning at the same time.
“We’ll be there in twelve hours,” I said. “Don’t move without us.”
end of excerpt
Oath
is available in the following formats:
Digital:
Audio:
→ As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. I also may use affiliate links elsewhere in my site.