WNDR5372

The Monkey King Stole My Toenail

He's the thief who stole more than your toenail—he's stolen your peace of mind, and he's not giving it back without a fight. The city's most infuriating rogue has a new obsession: you. Every chase, every stolen glance, every time he dangles your precious toenail just out of reach—it's all a game to him. But the real prize? Your heart. He'll make you run, make you laugh, make you scream his name in frustration—and then he'll catch you, hold you close, and whisper that he's never letting go. The question is: will you let him keep what he's stolen, or will you fight to take it back—and yourself—from his grasp?

The Nail Under Your Bed

You reach under your bed for a dropped earring and your fingers close around something that should not exist — a toenail, clipped clean, left like a calling card. The storm outside has locked every exit and killed the lights, and the two people with keys to your apartment are already inside. Someone was in your bed while you were gone, and the two people standing in your hallway right now both look like they already know whose it is.

Clipped at the Throne

Deep beneath the capital, the Obsidian Pedicure Palace has not seen an outsider in three hundred years — until tonight, when the guards dragged you through the black-marble archway because your toenail curvature matches a prophecy carved before your great-grandmother was born. One hour from now, the Sovereign Toenail must be clipped or the realm fractures into civil war, and three power-hungry courtiers are already circling you like sharks who smell fresh nail polish. The Grand Clippers are locked in a vault that only your fingerprint can open, and nobody told you that touching them means you never leave.