Endless One

Book : The Gravesinger Series

by Emma Hamm

Genres: Epic Fantasy; Romantic Fantasy; Fantasy Romance

Synopsis

Perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas, Emma Hamm’s instant USA TODAY bestselling dark romantasy trilogy comes to a heart-stopping conclusion in The Endless One.

Jessamine survived betrayal, death, and the gods themselves—but survival was only the beginning. Her kingdom lies in ruins. Her throne has been stolen. And the man who once murdered her has succeeded in doing the unthinkable: binding himself to a god.

To reclaim her crown, Jessamine must defy ancient powers and betrayals alike—and face the enemy who once slit her throat. But now, she isn’t the innocent bride who fell to her death. She is the Gravesinger.

Captured and forced to confront a fate far worse than dying, Jessamine must decide how much of herself she is willing to sacrifice to end a war. Bound to Elric, the god who loves her, she must choose between the humanity that shaped her—and the power required to tear divinity down at its source.

Because this time, she isn’t just ready to kill a man.

She’s ready to kill a god.

Release date: September 1, 2026

Publisher: Gallery Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

Chapter 1
The end of the world was nigh, but Jessamine Harmsworth was going to stop it.

Breath sawing through her lungs, heart pounding in her chest, she ran through the streets of this vaguely familiar city, knowing that she was going to make it. Her coven had spies everywhere. They knew where Leon Bishop was, they knew how he was going to cast a spell to put a god in himself, and they knew when it was going to happen.

Which was right now.

This instant. Leon planned to turn himself into a god, and then all would be lost.

Already a smile spread across her face as she imagined what it would be like to interrupt his spell. He’d stare at her in shock, then horror as he realized who it was that had bested him. Her revenge was so close she could almost taste it.

Bolting past a crowd of people near a stall brimming with pomegranates, she shoved through another grouping of people in bright florals. Leon’s kingdom was full of primping rich folks who had been shipped in from countless other cities. After all, he wanted Orenda to be the only haven for them. He wanted them indebted to him, trapped, so they were forced to remain in his kingdom while the rest of the world burned.

This kingdom was so different from her own. Whereas Jessamine’s homeland was built with gray bricks and sturdy structures, this place had been inspired by the sea itself. White buildings turned blinding as the sun came out in bright streaks of light. The vivid lavender roofs were beautiful when anyone was high enough to see them. This place was full of colors. It always had been.

As a young woman agreeing to marriage, she’d been so in love with Orenda. She adored every bit of the colors and how delicate everything appeared in comparison to her home. Even the Pleasure District wasn’t as beautiful as Leon’s kingdom.

But now she was going to destroy all of it by tearing him down. He would not become a god. He would sink to his knees and beg her for his life, and she would not be so kind as to gift it to him. The man would receive no pity from her, no matter how much he pleaded.

The crowds of people had no idea what he was preparing. They were all going about their regular days, wondering why a young woman was sprinting among them. No one rushed in Orenda. Even the vendors were wealthy, as they only sold the best of the best. Food was shipped in from other countries and provided at no cost, considering the high taxes they all paid.

Her feet pounded on the ground as she raced toward the city center. That’s where he was going to do it. Of course, the city center could be a private affair. It was barricaded by massive ornate gates inlaid with mother-of-pearl and white gold.

She’d seen them the last time she was here, visiting with her mother to make sure that the transfer of power between their kingdoms was perfect.

From the corner of her eye, she saw another person running on an opposite street. Just glimpses of dark skin, even darker hair, and a wild grin that spoke of magic and wildness that came only from witchcraft.

Sybil had come with her. Along with a few newer members of the coven. The witches were going to be the first to confront Leon, before they revealed that Elric was also working with them.

They had a plan. And it was a damn good one.

Weeks on end had been spent making sure that this moment was smooth and that not a single foot stepped out of place. For the first time in many months, Jessamine felt confident that what she had chosen to do, what she had set in motion, would work out exactly as she expected it to.

Grabbing onto a cart to help spin her momentum, she rounded the corner of a street and met Sybil. Together, they ran right for the gates that were just starting to close.

Three men stood guard outside, one of them watching the street and the other two working on closing the gates. Their navy suits were pressed into perfectly ironed lines, starched so much she wondered if the fabric could cut their skin, and each of them wore thunderous expressions.

Their anger wouldn’t matter in a few seconds. The moment they caught sight of Jessamine and Sybil, it was already too late. Her coven had reached the doors with them. Two other witches who joined them let spells lash out from their tongues.

One cast a spell that ripped roots right out of the ground. Those fibrous ropes grabbed onto one of the guards, tangling up his legs and reaching to pin his arms. Though he swore and struggled, there was no escaping his prison.

The other guard grabbed his face, trying to figure out why his eyesight was gone. But then another spell flew from the witch who could control flesh, and his tongue folded and went straight down his throat. Jessamine could see the instant his airway was blocked. The man froze where he stood, reaching for his throat as his eyes bulged.

“Don’t kill him,” Jessamine snapped as she headed over to the third man trembling by the gate he held shut.

The young flesh witch was one of the newest to join the coven. She seemed to vibrate with rage as she stared at the man now on his knees while he desperately pried his jaws open and tried to yank his tongue back to where it should be.

What was her name again?

“Miriam,” Jessamine snapped. “Just make him pass out.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” the young woman said. Her blonde hair billowed around her face, which was turning just as red as the man on his knees before her. But Jessamine knew it was anger staining her cheeks. “I just want him to feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“Fear,” Miriam said, the word deep and resonating with emotion. “So many men just like him spread fear around like they’re sprinkling seeds. They think it helps make everyone around them grow big and strong, but all it does is drip poison into their roots.”

“Enough.” Jessamine reached for Miriam’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Enough, Miriam. This is not what we are here for.”

The young witch released her spell, but not before the man fell over onto his side and passed out. Jessamine could see his tongue struggling to free itself from his throat before flopping out of his open mouth.

Good enough. At least he wasn’t dead. These new witches had a lot of anger in them still, and she didn’t blame them for it. But she had to be able to trust them.

Frowning, she made eye contact with Sybil. Her friend sighed. “I’ll watch her. Want to take care of the last one yourself?”

Not really, but she’d do it. Jessamine turned toward the guard, who was quite literally hanging on to the gate like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His breathing was heavy as he stared at her, clearly not sure what would be done to him. His gaze kept flicking to the other two men, and then back to her. If only she had more time to show him just what witches were really capable of.

Whispering, she coiled Elric’s dark magic with her own. She needed no spell, only intention. “Bind him.”

Shadows tangled around his arms and legs. He didn’t fight her as she brought him onto his knees and gently deposited him in a bush next to the gates. That should keep him for a little while, at least.

Long enough for them to kill the man he was supposed to be protecting.

“Good enough,” she said as she strode through the gates and into the garden beyond.

The first time Jessamine had been here, she was struck by the beauty of it. But now she only saw the warning signs that filled the entire area to the brim. Flowers bloomed in any season and filled the air with a cloying sweetness. The ground was too squishy beneath her feet from months of overwatering that kept people walking slowly so they didn’t trip. But at the very center was what she hated most.

The gardens spiraled down into a deeper hollow. That way, during festivals, the king could be in the center, with everyone’s path leading to him and worshipping as they were supposed to do. Neither Leon nor his late father had ever had to be concerned that someone would kill them. They were overly confident like that. Of course, they hadn’t given anyone reason to try to kill them either.

Not until now. Now, as Leon stood in the center of that depression, etching out markings that looked like familiar runes.

She stood there, waiting in silence as she surveyed the massive web of magic he had woven around himself. Protection spells. Barriers that would be difficult to get through. Runes that were calling to the spirits of gods who were supposed to be dead and gone.

Sybil stood next to her, silently taking in all that they had to get through. “Want me to start unraveling it?”

“Can you?”

Her dearest friend shrugged. “I’m not all that sure. It looks like he aimed a musket and scattered shot everywhere he could with runes. It’s a minefield of spells that are meant to harm.”

“I only see protection and barriers.”

Sybil lifted an ancient, gnarled hand and pointed out a few runes in front of them. “That’s an entangling spell. That one is a frost spell. There’s another that’s just fire. I don’t know what he thought that would do, because it’s not like he can make something burn with that spell. It makes a fire burn hotter. But I suppose if someone walked in with a torch…”

Jessamine lifted a hand. “You’re giving him too much credit.”

“Look,” Sybil said. “He’s got a book of spells with him, the brat. He’s just taking every single spell in that and sprinkling it around the area. This must have taken him hours on end.”

“How is he even casting magic?”

“They aren’t really magic. They feed off the ground where they are, blighting the land. Nasty works that only the priestesses knew about.” Sybil sucked her teeth before shaking her head. “He’s a right asshole, isn’t he?”

“You’re just realizing that?”

Jessamine took her time looking through every single spell he’d chaotically spread around them. There had to be a weak spot. Leon wasn’t that smart, and something as random as this couldn’t keep him entirely protected. Could it?

He continued etching his markings on the ground, but then she saw it. Of course there was a hole. All she had to do was make sure not to step on that rune that looked like it was meant to summon crows, and she could get into the inner circle.

A warmth pressed against her spine, and she knew who it was without looking back. The ominous wall of crackling energy could only be one person.

“Careful, nightmare,” Elric murmured in her ear as he snaked a hand around her waist. “We won’t want to ruin the art of surprise.”

“I don’t need him surprised to kill him.”

“Arrogance gets you nowhere.”

“Confidence,” she corrected before turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let me work, Deathless One.”

He melted back into the shadows, ready to be there when she needed him, and Jessamine steeled herself for the confrontation she’d been waiting for. She’d run from Leon at Fortuna’s party in the Pleasure District. Even now, she could feel her palms growing sweaty. He’d always had that effect on her. No matter how confident she was when she went into a conversation with Leon Bishop, she always left feeling much smaller than she really was.

But not this time. This time, she would walk right up to him and tell him exactly what she thought of him.

She picked her way through the runes, walking with her chin held high in case he saw her. But he didn’t. Leon was looking at the ground, checking every single etching because his spell had to go right. After all, he was summoning a god.

When Jessamine finally got within eyesight, she stood there and waited for him to turn. Leon Bishop had always been a handsome man. Once upon a time, she’d been girlishly intrigued by his blond hair and soft blue eyes. Though she’d never thought him particularly her type, she’d been certain she could figure out a way to admire him. They’d need to have children, after all.

But when those blue eyes looked into hers now, all she saw was the hardness and frustration in his gaze. He wasn’t even shocked. Like he hadn’t cut her throat and thrown her off a cliff’s edge.

She frowned. “You’re not even going to ask how I’m here?”

“Jessamine. I’m a little busy right now.”

“You killed me.”

Leon waved a hand up and down her body. “Clearly not.”

Anger made her ears hot. How dare he. How dare he not even be surprised that she was alive!

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she hissed. “How dare you act like it’s to be expected that I survived you cutting my throat and throwing me off a cliff.”

“You coming back to life is old news, Jessamine. I’ve known for a long time that you made a deal with your Deathless God. But that’s fine.” He even had the audacity to chuckle. “You’re not going to stop me. I suppose it is kind of you to show up here, after all this time. It’s good to see you. I wish I could say you looked good, but… obviously you don’t.”

Why did that make her want to punch him in the throat? She didn’t care if he thought she looked good. She didn’t care what he thought of her at all. Getting angry over what a stupid man thought of her was a waste of energy.

Jessamine coiled magic through her fingers, threading it between each digit. She would wrap it around him, bind him to the ground so she could figure out what he wanted from her.

“Oh, we’re not doing that,” Leon said.

And then flicked his fingers.

She felt the magic tangling around her before she was yanked farther into the circle he’d been drawing. Power crackled around her shoulders, sparking like tiny zings of lightning as she was dragged to his side. Her feet left marks on the ground as she struggled, but soon enough, he had his arm wrapped around her and spun her around to see three witches flinging spells to get to her.

Fire burned on one side of the garden. More plants grew, fighting to get through the runes that were activating wildly. And then there was Sybil, her face creased with rage as she ran through every spell she knew of to destroy all the runes without them hurting Jessamine.

“You brought so few people to stop me,” he murmured in her ear. “And you really believed that you could.”

“I don’t need anyone other than myself to kill you.” She struggled in his grip, but his arm was a band around her, and that damn spell really was a good one.

“Oh, Jessamine. Do you really believe I’d give all the remaining sorcery to Fortuna? I have some of my own. Magic is magic, after all. Even if it means consuming an old biddy to get it.” Leon’s grip tightened, and cold, sharp metal touched her throat. “I already did this once. It’s such a waste to do it again. But maybe you’ll stay dead long enough to awaken and meet the God King yourself.”

“You are not going to kill me this time,” she hissed, her fingers curving around a knife in her waistband. If she could just get her arm to move, then she could pull it out and stab it into his gut.

“You couldn’t stop me last time, Jessamine. What’s going to stop me now?”

Leon’s wrist moved, that cold metal slicing through her skin until it froze. A dark hand covered his own, shadows soon bleeding into flesh as another coalesced into being beside them.

Elric’s face was creased with rage. His dark eyes were endless pools, and his entire being vibrated with bloated magic as he barely kept himself in check. Although it was clear he wanted to tear Leon’s head from his shoulders.

Her god, her lover, her most beloved being snarled, “Last time, she didn’t have me.”