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The fae territories are in shambles as the Human King, Kirwan, wages war against them. Laisren, a fae city of fire wielders nestled into an eternally fall forest, was his most recent conquest that left Lachlan O’Aodhan in charge of his displaced people. The magic of their realm is severely out of balance causing once peaceful creatures to to turn aggressive and the elemental magic to weaken. When Lachlan’s magic can hardly produce a spark and his hope for his people is nearly lost, he finds two human women who align with a prophecy he has long considered no more than the rambling of witches. 
The realm of the fae is no more than myth and folklore for two recent graduates, Newt and Erin, but when they accidentally pass through a faerie door there’s no more denying its existence. With no clear way home, they must embark on a journey to find magical fae keys that will grant them unbelievable powers amidst the civil war in the hopes of staying alive long enough to find their way back to their realm.
Their friendship reaches a breaking point as truths from their life back home come to light and their desire to return diverge.

Newt looks at the man, really looks at him for the first time with his hood down and the morning light getting closer and closer to sunrise by the second. His face is a cool steel of concentration, green eyes looking to the next target while his sword finishes with the one before him. Newt is shocked by his youth. He only appears to be a few years older than Newt--maybe even the same age. His brows are pulled together above the sharp ridge of his roman nose. His alabaster skin is in stark contrast to his chin length, dark brown hair that curls on itself framing his ears and face—his ears! His ears poke through the thick curls into sharp points. 

​“Where the fuck are we,” Newt says through gritted teeth. Erin just shakes her head with wide eyes. ​