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Lynette Noni is Australia’s current #1 YA fiction author. She studied journalism, academic writing, and human behavior at university before venturing into the world of fiction. She is the bestselling and award-winning author of the Prison Healer series, the Medoran Chronicles, and the Whisper duology. The Prison Healer was the 2022 ABIA Award for Book of the Year for Older Children, as well as a finalist in the 2022 Audie Awards, and a notable mention for the CBCA (Children’s Book Council of Australia) book of the year. Noni's books have sold more than one million copies in over twenty countries.

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**NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A young reaper hunter must conspire with her enemy to uproot the ancient evil that threatens her world in this heart-pounding romantic fantasy from the bestselling author of The Prison Healer.

"This year's must read YA fantasy." —Rebecca Yarros, #1 New York Times bestselling author of *Fourth Wing

The city of Aravell is in peril, plagued by a deadly blackmist that kills all it touches, and reapers who roam the streets, stealing the magic of innocent children in their thirst for power. Seventeen-year-old Viridia Solace has trained for years to hunt and kill these monsters, but their ranks keep growing, led by the man who murdered her parents: the Reaper Priest.

Then Viri meets Reeve Ashton, the Priest's most loyal follower, and he offers a chance to avenge her parents . . . for a price. She knows better than to bargain with a reaper, let alone this reaper, but his offer is too good to resist.

Soon she's breaking him out of prison, colluding with his crew of magic thieves, and following him to the deepest, darkest edge of the Blackmist wood in search of an ancient legend, all so they can stop the Reaper Priest from carrying out a plan to doom the whole island. Viri is staking her life on Reeve's plan, but how can she trust a silver-tongued criminal to keep his word? And how can she trust her own heart when a buried secret could shatter everything?

Full of relentless twists, enemies-to-lovers romance, found family, and high stakes action, Shadow Reaper is the start of a breathtaking new duology from international bestselling author Lynette Noni.

Leseprobe
1

The slums of ­Aravell were eerily quiet at the midnight hour.

For most, it was risky to be out so late. The Nox ­Custodia imposed strict penalties upon anyone caught after curfew, and they were known to be creative with their punishments. But seventeen-­year-­old Viridia Solace wasn’t worried about the Nox—­one look at the insignia on her scarlet cloak and the city guards would keep their distance. She was more concerned by what lurked in the shadows. By who lurked in the shadows.

Her quarry.

The reason she was navigating the abandoned streets so late at night, when only the most desperate of citizens dared to peek around their sealed doors.

The most desperate of citizens—­and the most dangerous of criminals.

Moving swiftly, Viri glanced down just in time for the moonlight to glint across a puddle on the cobblestones: vomit or urine or something equally unpleasant. Perhaps all three, judging by the foul odor. After years of hunting reapers deep into the slums, she still couldn’t get used to the smells of unwashed flesh, decay, and overflowing sewage. Some days she feared she’d scrub her skin raw and yet never be clean again.

Shuddering at the phantom feel of ichor on her feet, Viri paused at a grungy intersection and considered which way to go: west, toward Lake Mirtis, or east, where the uppercity bled into the Tridus Mountains. She closed her eyes to focus her mind, and a moment later her hand began to warm, followed by a tugging sensation inside her, an instinct urging her west.

Setting off deeper into the darkness, she quickened her pace as the hunter’s mark inked into her palm continued to heat up, guiding her to her prey. The mark—­three interlocking circles representing her oath to protect, honor, and serve—­was given to her the day she became a full-­fledged reaper hunter. For most novices, training finished at eighteen, but Viri had earned her mark a year ago at just sixteen. A prodigy, her mentor had claimed. But really, she’d just had more motivation than most to see every single reaper get what they deserved.

Rowdy sounds reached Viri’s ears from up ahead, the un­expected noise making her frown as she continued forward. She was closer to Lake Mirtis than she would have liked, and acutely aware of the dangers lurking beyond the Western Obelisk at the lake’s edge. This far out in the slums, the obelisk’s protective wards were significantly weakened, and that more than the Nox ­Custodia was why most sensible surface dwellers remained inside at night. Behind their carefully sealed doors, they were shielded from the drifting blackmist—­and the agonizing death it afforded any who came in contact with it.

During the day, the four obelisks guarding the city forced the mist to withdraw to the outer reaches of Elverdine Isle. There it floated like a deadly cloud over the uninhabited forests and sea cliffs bordering the island, allowing the citizens of ­Aravell to go about their lives in relative safety. But come nightfall, when the ocean breeze picked up, not even the obelisks could keep the mist from wafting inland—­which was why most ­­Aravellians resided inside the mountains or beneath the surface in the under­city.

Viri, like any sane person, had a healthy fear of the blackmist, so she was eager to finish her hunt and return underground as soon as possible.

The mark on her hand suddenly seared, warning that she was nearing her target. A few steps later, she turned the corner of a dilapidated building to find the source of the rowdy noise: a rundown tavern on the verge of collapse.

For a moment, Viri just stood in the middle of the fetid street, wondering what careless patrons feared neither the mist nor the Nox. But then she shook her head and marched forward, ready to conclude her business. If things went to plan, she might even manage a few hours’ sleep before dawn.

Approaching the tavern—­named the Dripping Barrel, according to the broken sign above the entrance—­Viri walked straight through the moldy, splintering doorway, marveling anew at the midnight revelry. It was common for nighttime socializing to occur in the undercity and inner-mountains, where there was no need for a safety curfew and residents could do as they pleased at all hours, but it was rare to witness the same here on the surface, where breathing the very air after dark could spell doom.

The patrons inside the Dripping Barrel seemed oblivious to the dangers of the outside world, their conversations loud and laughter unrestrained. The pungent scents of spilled ale and reeking bodies burned Viri’s nose as she waded through the crowd, the mark on her hand still searing, telling her that not only was the reaper inside, but they were siphoning ellixen, right now.

Viri had always been more sensitive than most to the feeling of magic in the air—­something that had aided her swift rise to becoming a hunter and protected her during many of her run-­ins with the reapers—­but not even she could pinpoint the exact location of her quarry. All she knew was that reapers never surrendered without a fight, and if this one had already begun siphoning, then their victim didn’t have much time left.

Urgency thrummed through Viri as she approached the middle-­aged man serving drinks behind the grimy bar and called for his atte…