Dominion

Book 1: The Silk and Iron Trilogy

by Jean Kwok

Genres: Fantasy; Epic Fantasy; Romantic Fantasy; General Fiction; Romance; Fantasy Romance

Synopsis

A woman with no past. A warrior with no future. Their love could save the world—or burn it down.

Fourth Wing—by way of Chinese mythology—meets The Hunger Games in a perilous world where a young woman with no memory and little magic may hold the key to uniting the Dominions and saving the mortal realm, from the New York Times bestselling author of Read with Jenna pick Searching for Sylvie Lee and Girl in Translation.

This deluxe limited first-run edition features a cover with foil, designed sprayed edges, and gorgeous map endpapers—while supplies last!

“A page turner. Tender yet tense, loving yet steamy, dangerous yet darkly humorous…Dominion creates something entirely new.” —Brigitte Knightley, New York Times bestselling author of The Irresistible Urge to Fall for Your Enemy

In a world divided into four rival dominions, power is everything—and Rubi Morningtail has almost none. Three years after the Annihilation destroyed her homeland and shattered her memories, she lives as an Azure refugee in the Dominion of the Silver Tyger, scraping by as a ribbon dancer and hiding her little bit of singing magic. When she wounds a massive battle tyger on her doorstep, she draws the notice of Blake Axefire—supreme metal mage, leader of the royal Tyger Warriors, and the last man an Azure should trust. His sentence? Cast her into the Bonding, a brutal trial where tygers choose their riders and slaughter the rest. Surviving is unthinkable.

But survive she does. Now she’s stuck on Blake’s elite team racing to reseal the Anchors to the Demon Realm. With rebels striking, demons rising, and the dominions at each other’s throats, Rubi must unlock the truth of her magic and her past…while resisting her dangerous attraction to the ruthless warrior who could be her redemption—or her ruin.

Release date: July 14, 2026

Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons

Print pages: 448

Sample

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1

You sure that's enough?"

I smiled up at Quinn with a roll of my eyes.

"Never. But I'll take what I can get." My words were muffled, my mouth full with the scallion pancake he'd given me as I lingered over his claimed bar area near the back.

The tavern was dim and crowded, the air thick with smoke and spice. Hanging paper lanterns flickered against the cypress beams, casting everything in gold and shadow. The tables were jammed close together, lacquer-chipped and stained from years of spilled rice wine and worse. People pressed in on every side.

But no one crossed the middle of the room, the definitive line between Silvers and Azures.

Azures, in our half-patched clothing, blue hair rippling in the glow of the firelight, stayed to this side, closer to the windows and fresh air. We were lean and fast, our bodies lithe, although I was more slightly built. Most didn't have the ability to shift, but the animal was always just under the skin, present in the way we moved: alert and athletic.

Silvers claimed the other side. For the most part burly and large-boned, their hair every shade of metal, from silver to gold to copper to bronze. They loomed over their tables stiff and silent, as if forged from the steel they revered. Most wore at least one piece of metal-nobles, or those close enough to pretend, with silver and gold glinting at wrists and throats.

And all of them looked at us Azures with clear disgust. The feeling was mutual.

I was surprised a fight hadn't broken out yet.

"Have some more," Quinn said, and I grinned, grabbing for his tall cup of amber millet ale, taking a quick swig. He snatched it back from me with a smirk. "I meant, food. Not ale, ribbon girl."

"You didn't specify." I shrugged. My eyes swept over the divided room once more.

The breadth of Quinn's shoulders kept me hidden for now, but I knew I only had mere moments before my performance was due to begin.

He pushed his slate blue hair back as he nudged another scallion pancake from his plate. I shook my head, but then slipped it into my satchel for Edith, even though I was positive his leftovers plus more would show up on our doorstep tomorrow morning.

The raucous noise in the bar lowered a fraction as the drummer took his place just offstage, his eyes scanning over the patrons anxiously. Looking for me, I knew.

I'd scrubbed clay bowls all day, climbed stairs until my calves ached, and taken no fewer than three drunken hands off my waist. By dusk, my body was frayed thin, and I was still fighting off a headache from waking to the dream this morning.

"Maybe you should take a night off." Quinn had caught the wince as I pressed a hand to my forehead, his brow furrowing deeper with concern. "Rubi, please-"

"I'm fine." I waved him off. "I'll find you after." He made another noise of protest before I gave a quick squeeze to his muscular shoulder and drifted away.

Dancing would make everything feel better. It always did.

I sent him a wink as I headed for the center platform. The second my foot touched the wood, hands gliding down for the handles of my ribbons, the musician began.

The drumbeat thudded through the floorboards, thick and heady.

Dancing was everything to me, as essential as the coin for food it would earn me. It was part of my body-something I imagined I'd done all my life, though I had no proof.

Three years ago, I escaped the crumbling Azure Dominion, part of a flood of refugees who sought asylum after the Annihilation, when our Anchor to the Demon Realm failed, overrunning us with demons and monsters alike.

I didn't remember it.

In fact, I remembered nothing. Only waking on a rocking ship sailing to the Silver Tyger Dominion with no memories-my home, my friends, my family, if I'd ever had any, lost forever. Forgotten. That was when Edith found me, and she'd treated me like family ever since.

It should have been easier for me to start over, completely anew.

But the absence of memories didn't rid me of the pain of loss, a deep well of feeling with no traceable source. An ache for someone or something I didn't even know the name of. Heavy and tangled, even now.

The Dominion of the Silver Tyger took in displaced Azures, but grudgingly. We were a burden no one wanted and have been kept aware of that fact.

But I had made a life here and it was the only one I knew-and this was my peace. Dancing. The weight of the wand in my hand, the feel of the ribbon against my skin, the swirl of it through the smoke, displacing the air like something otherworldly. It felt divine, like a gift.

Like magic, when I didn't have much of my own. Dancing was healing for me, in its own way.

I hadn't lost the knowledge of movement buried deep in my flesh. My body remembered what my mind didn't.

When the pressure of grief, longing, and anger got so bad that I thought it might split me open, I danced. Especially after the dream, the woman whispering a song against my temple as she rocked me back and forth. On those days, the dance felt stronger. More powerful.

Dancing released some of the grief, bled it out.

And when I moved, I felt like fire. Hungry, wild, unrestrained.

I let the ribbons flow from the wands I held, coiling around my arms, then sliced the air with them, sharp and fluid. They cracked like whips and shimmered. I bent low, then rolled up slowly through my spine and spun on the ball of one foot. The fabric flowed behind me.

A tilt of my chin. A flick over the shoulder. A flash of teeth between breaths. I had control of this body, if nothing else, and I knew exactly how to make the ribbons snap like whips, how to arch my back and swing my hips until everyone stopped talking, how to let the tension build in the room, gazes fixed upon me like a weapon I could wield. I spun, arms cutting arcs through the air, the fabric slicing behind me.

A tiny thrum in my chest flickered to life, soft and warm. I started to hum without realizing it, a soft thread of melody winding through the air.

Movement became music.

Music became breath.

And for a little while, nothing else existed. My faint yin magic pulsed as I moved, binding the room to me. A thread of sound slipping from my throat, barely audible under the drums. It wound through the crowd, and it pulled the room to me like a tide.

The audience, Silver and Azure alike, bent toward me.

I swept one arm across the floor, then rose slowly, letting the sweat slick down my back. My dress was made of thin, worn cotton. The color had faded, but it clung to my curves, and when I moved, it fluttered around me. My long hair brushed my hips, a shimmering blue-green under the tavern lights.

I flicked a ribbon high, let it spiral down beside my cheek, slow and silky, before I snapped it back with a crack. I let my hips sway, arms rise, and the ribbons followed, sweeping through the air. My ribbons swirled as I turned and twirled the wands in my hands, two streams of light spiraling around me.

Men watched me, yes. But women did, too. With longing. With hunger. Not for my body but for what I felt inside mine when I was dancing. The passion. The freedom. Some leaned forward, tankards halfway to their mouths, mesmerized.

Even among Azures, I was a sad case. A weak yin magic user, I couldn't change into some powerful animal form like the more magical from my dominion.

But here, in this moment, with my ribbons and the heavy beat of the drum, I wasn't Rubi, the Azure woman with no memories. I wasn't less.

I was silk and breath.

I was power.

I twirled again, slower now, before throwing both arms out, ribbons cracking wide in one final arc of color.

The music stopped, and I held still with one knee bent deep, the other leg extended behind me in a long line, toes pointed. My arms arched overhead, ribbons trailing like flames, my head tilted back, throat exposed to the light.

Applause shattered the spell. The room howled and clapped and pounded tables. Coins clattered at my feet. I bowed, chest heaving, then quickly swept them up into my bag, placing it on my hip. I stepped off the platform, legs shaking from exertion. The ribbons now hung from the wands in my hands, limp.

Slowly everyone resumed their conversations. My eyes scanned lightly over the crowd, searching for Quinn.

Instead, I caught a pair of arctic blue eyes staring at me from beneath a darkened hood on the Azure side of the room. His jaw was chiseled, and he had a square masculine chin.

I couldn't make out his hair color, hidden by his hood, but something told me it wouldn't be blue. Though he sat among the Azure refugees, his cloak was worn too evenly, the frays looking almost deliberate, and his gloves, which he'd laid beside him on the table, though scuffed, were crafted from a fine, supple leather.

Azures didn't have that kind of money. Not to mention he was far too broad. The outline of his shoulders stretched the fabric tight across his back.

A Silver, then. On the wrong side of the room.

Ignoring the strange, almost eerie brightness of his eyes still locked on me, I climbed down and headed for my things, planning a quick exit.

At the bar, two Silver soldiers watched me. One flexed as he rolled up his sleeves and ran a hand through his silver hair. The other, well-dressed and handsome, stepped into my path as I exited and grinned wide.

"Care for another dance?" He spoke in the Common Tongue with a heavy Silver accent, voice slurred but loud.

I glanced around him, no quick escape in sight, so I sank into my hip, arms crossing.

"Come here, steelheart." His grin sharpened. Stepping closer, he grabbed my arm and whispered into my ear: "I've always wanted to try an Azure."

My body moved on instinct, slamming my head against his lips. It was impossible to hide my satisfied smirk as he staggered back, bleeding from the mouth.

I'd have a better retort than violence if I weren't so exhausted.

"You blue-haired whore!" The drunken Silver raised his hand to strike and I braced for a blow-

But his fist was caught by a tall figure planting himself in front of me like an immovable wall, green eyes blazing. Quinn.

"Try me," Quinn said, voice silky smooth and pleasant. "I'll give you a great time."

The Silver blinked, his drunken bravado wobbling as he eyed Quinn's imposing form. Nothing of my friend lingered from before. This was Quinn the imposing blacksmith's apprentice.

Shapeshifters were feared and revered, especially those who took predatory forms. Quinn turned into a huge tan wolf, and that forceful, untamed power bled into his human form. There was a fluid and dangerous grace to the way he moved. It wasn't a surprise that men and women alike lusted after him. And by Kuan Yin the goddess of compassion, did he know it.

The Silver held up his hands and slunk back into the crowd, nursing his wounded mouth.

"I could've handled it," I told Quinn, hanging my ribbon wands onto my belt, securing my coins beside them.

He turned toward me, hair falling across his face, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm very aware, Rubi. But your boss looked ready to throw you out. Think he would fire you for riling up the Silvers?"

"I wasn't doing anything. I'm a dancer. He's not going to fire me."

"I think he would have gotten rid of you long ago if you . . . you know." Quinn coughed, a splotch of pink decorating his cheeks. ". . . Didn't look like that."

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. What the hell was that supposed to mean? "Well, he hasn't really got a choice. I'm the only ribbon dancer around."

Quinn leaned against the bar, his smile lazy and lopsided, showing his perfect teeth. An invitation, and not a subtle one. His tunic hung open just enough to show the sculpted chest beneath. He bent down and whispered in my ear, "Come home with me."

"Quinn," I whispered, almost a frustrated whine.

It would be no hardship to let him warm my bed. We'd been intimate twice before, enjoyed each other as a break from the cold and poverty. He'd been in a lot of beds indiscriminately, however, and I'd discovered it was easier to just be friends, as we always were.

But it didn't stop him from offering now and again, though I knew he had plenty of company to keep him warm at night.

"You're joking."

His flirtatious smile transformed into the grin of the friend I knew, and he stepped closer. "Sure. But seriously, Rubi-let me at least walk you home. It's late and . . ."

Something was worrying him. More than usual.

"And what?"

His voice dropped, head dipping to my ear. "And the Ironstorm have been too active lately."

My stomach dropped. The Ironstorm. The rebel group led by the Ravager, a mysterious masked Azure. They were fighting for what most of us Azure refugees would say was the right cause, but they were brutal in their efforts and attracting too much attention.

"I haven't heard anything."

Quinn shrugged, calling over my shoulder to the bartender for another millet ale. He leaned his forearms across the wooden bar top, pressing his bicep into mine as I faced forward with my back to the bar. "We think they're planning something big, but they haven't given warning."

"Do you think it's because of the Bonding?"

The Bonding ceremony, a sacred tradition of the Silver Tyger Dominion, was fast approaching. On the equinox, the day when light and darkness stood equal, yang magic users could attempt to Bond with one of the royal tygers, descended from Silver Dominion's Celestial Guardian, and become one of the king's elite Tyger Warriors. From what I understood, it was a bloodbath. The tygers killed those they didn't choose. It was irrelevant to me. I'd been born a yin magic user, like most women, so I didn't qualify; plus, the Silvers didn't want an Azure near their precious tygers anyway. Anticipation of the Bonding ran hotter than usual this year because the young tygress queen was finally old enough to choose a Mate.