Chapter 1
To save my family from the king’s dungeons, I married the Lord Regent–the most feared man in the realm.
On our wedding night, the man they whispered was no man at all took me until I teetered on oblivion.
The next morning, royal decree in hand, he ordered my House slaughtered.
I knelt at his door for three days.
“Ten years ago,” he said, ice in his gaze, “your father’s betrayal saw my kin butchered like cattle. This is fate’s wheel turning. Blood owed, paid in blood.”
For five years he kept me locked away, tormenting me daily. I held on for my mother’s sake–until he ripped our seven–month child from my womb for his mistress.
Seven days before my promised freedom, I stood atop the Spire, wind lashing my robes.
And there–the mighty Regent on his knees, begging me not to jump.
01
The moment Damien Vaughn kicked the door open, I had just finished lighting the three memorial candles for our child’s tablet.
He seized my wrist, his grip like iron, his expression savage.
“Elara, you have some nerve!”
“I told you, do not go near Liana. Yet you provoke her, again and again.”
“Do you truly believe I won’t do anything to you?”
He shoved me violently.
My forehead struck the edge of the wooden table behind me, and a painful, red welt immediately began to form.
But I acted as if I felt nothing. I slowly sank to my knees before him, pressing my bruised forehead to the cold stone floor.
“I am sorry.”
Damien’s eyes tightened. He instinctively reached out to help me up, but the moment his fingers brushed my arm, he flinched back.
As if he had touched something foul, he snatched his hand away and hid it behind his back.
“What game are you playing now, Elara?”
I shock my head, my voice as still and dead as a winter lake.
1
“No game. It is my duty to see to Lady Liana.”
“Whatever has befallen her, I accept the blame.”
It was always this way. He never investigated anything concerning Liana; he simply decreed it was my fault.
If Liana had a headache, he claimed it was because our stars were crossed in ill–omen.
If Liana sprained her ankle, he accused me of deliberately placing loose stones on the path.
And two days ago, when Liana miscarried, and the royal physician found saffron in her tonic…
He didn’t need proof. He declared I had done it out of jealousy and spite.
He was the one who held the bitter draught to my lips, forcing me to drink. He was the one who ordered the midwife to tear our seven–month–old child from my body, to serve as a companion for Liana’s lost baby in the cold earth.
The thought of that unborn child sent a wave of grief so profound through me that I nearly collapsed.
I bit down hard on my lip, just to maintain the last shred of composure in his presence.
Experience had taught me that any display of weakness would be seen as another ploy, another attempt to manipulate him with pity.
The candles on the table burned out. Damien’s gaze swept over them and fell upon the child’s memorial tablet.
His face contorted. He strode forward, lifted me without a word, and threw me onto the bed, his hands moving to the ties of my bodice.
I could smell it on his collar–the cloying scent of Liana’s favorite perfume.
I caught his hand, my eyes meeting his with a strange calm.
“My body has not yet healed. Perhaps another day.”
Damien froze, then his eyes raked over me, a deep, mocking sneer spreading across his face.
He leaned in close, his whisper a venomous caress against my ear.
“Elara, besides this body of yours, what other value do you possess?”
0507
A chill pierced me to the bone. Ignoring my trembling, Damien ripped away the last of my clothing.
The bed canopy fell, casting the room in wavering, uncertain light.
His face, devoid of passion, was reflected in my tear–filled, numb eyes.
I couldn’t deny it. I loved Damien Vaughn.
He was the brilliant, beautiful boy who had dazzled my youth.
He was the man I had defied my parents for, kneeling outside their door for three days and nights, determined to marry.
But I couldn’t help but hate him, too…
He had seduced me into his trap, only to send my entire family to the gallows. He had personally overseen the execution of my parents and a hundred other membe-
rs of House Sutton.
He had kept me a prisoner for five years, shaming and torturing me, day after endless day.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought of death.
But five years ago, in that dark, cold dungeon, my mother had clutched my hand, her face streaked with tears.
“Elara, my darling,” she had wept, “I only ask one thing of you. No matter what, you must live.”
“I will wait for you on the shores of the afterlife for five years. If, after five years, you still have not found a reason to live, then you may come and find me.”
My mother hoped that promise of five years would give me a reason to hope, a reason to survive.
Even the coming of our child… I had allowed myself to believe it was a glimmer of light my mother had sent me from beyond.
But that fragile flame had been ruthlessly snuffed out by Damien.
And now, there were five days left until my five years were up.
02
