The rejection ceremony was supposed to break her.
And as Seren stood before the entire Thornhaven pack, watching the man she’d been promised to since childhood curl his lip in disgust, she did the one thing no one expected.
She didn’t beg.
She didn’t weep.
She didn’t fall to her knees and plead for mercy like the half-blood abomination they believed her to be.
She simply lifted her chin and said, “I accept your rejection.
” The silence that followed was deafening because rejected wolves were supposed to shatter.
They were supposed to claw at their chests as the bond severed, to scream and beg for reconsideration.
But Seren stood perfectly still, her face betraying nothing, and that terrified them more than tears ever could.
It should have ended there.
She should have been cast out, declared rogue, hunted down, and killed before sunrise.
But fate had other plans.
Because watching from the shadows, visiting Thornhaven on matters of state, was Alpha King Corane of Valde, the most powerful wolf in the five kingdoms, the coldest ruler their kind had ever known.
A king who hadn’t taken a mate in 12 years of reign, who turned away princesses and daughters of lords without a second glance.
And when Seren accepted her rejection without begging, something in him snapped.
Not visibly, not loudly.
But every wolf in that hall felt it.
The suffocating weight of an apex predator’s attention suddenly fixed on a single point on her.
“That one,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence like ice through flesh, “bongs to me now.
” Neither of them understood what that declaration would cost them.
or what it would save.
The great hall of Thornhaven had never felt so small.
Seren stood on the raised platform at its center, positioned like a criminal, awaiting sentencing rather than a woman at her own rejection ceremony.
Around her, 300 wolves watched with expressions ranging from pity to satisfaction to barely concealed hunger.
The hunting would begin after this.
She knew once she was declared rogue, she’d have until sunrise to run before they came for her.
Aldrich Vaughn, son of the Beta and the man she’d been betrothed to for 18 years, stood 5 ft away from her, close enough that she could see the contempt in his amber eyes, far enough that he wouldn’t risk touching her.
He’d been kind once in her memories.
When they were children, before he understood what she was, he’d held her hand and promised they’d rule the pack together.
But children grew up, and Aldrich had learned what everyone else already knew, that her mother had been a witch, that the blood running through Seren’s veins was polluted, impure, an abomination against the natural order.
“Let the rejection be witnessed,” the Pax Alpha announced.
Seren’s uncle Matus Crane who had raised her after her mother’s execution and reminded her daily that she existed only at his sufference.
Aldrich stepped forward.
I, Aldrich Vaughn, son of Betavornne, reject you.
Seren Crane as my mate and my future Luna.
The bond that had been forced upon them as children began to tear.
Seren felt it.
the ripping sensation in her chest like hooks being dragged through her heart.
Every instinct screamed at her to fight it, to beg, to do anything to stop the pain.
But she’d had 18 years to prepare for this moment.
She breathed through it, kept her spine straight, let her face remain perfectly, absolutely empty.
I reject you because you are unworthy.
Aldrich continued, his voice rising.
Because your mother was a witch who betrayed our kind.
Because your very existence is an insult to every pure-blooded wolf in this hall.
Murmurss of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Seren said nothing.
“Well,” Aldrich demanded.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Seren met his gaze, held it, let three full seconds pass.
I accept your rejection.
Four words, no tears, no trembling, no visible sign that he’d wounded her at all.
The crowd shifted uneasily.
That’s it.
Aldrich looked almost offended.
You’re not going to beg.
Would it change anything? His jaw tightened.
No, then no, I won’t beg.
Alphamus raised his hand for silence.
The rejection is witnessed.
Seren Crane, you are hereby.
Wait.
The voice came from the back of the hall, low, quiet, and carrying an authority that made every wolf in the room freeze midbreath.
Surin watched the crowd part like water before a blade.
And through that opening walked Alpha King Corv of Valde.
He was tall.
That was her first coherent thought.
Taller than any wolf she’d ever seen.
broad shouldered beneath a coat of deep black, his dark hair falling across a face that looked like it had been carved from winter itself.
Sharp cheekbones, pale gray eyes, cold and clear and absolutely merciless.
Your majesty, Alpha Matthysse stammered, dropping into a bow.
We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.
Continue, Corv said.
He walked toward the platform, the crowd parting before him.
He stopped directly in front of Seren.
Up close, she could see a scar running along his jaw, shadows beneath his eyes, and something else.
A coldness radiating from him that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with something broken inside.
“You accepted the rejection,” he said.
“Yes, your majesty.
” without begging? Yes.
Why? Because begging wouldn’t have changed the outcome, and I refused to give my pain to people who would enjoy it.
Something stirred in those frozen eyes, something she couldn’t name.
The silence stretched.
Then Alpha King Corv turned to her uncle and said, “I’m taking her.
” The hall erupted.
“Your majesty,” Matthew sputtered, his composure cracking.
Surely you can’t be serious.
She’s a halfblood, a witch’s daughter.
She’s not fit to clean your floors, let alone.
I don’t recall asking for your opinion.
Corvain’s voice didn’t rise.
It didn’t need to.
Siren stood frozen, her mind struggling to process what was happening.
The Alpha King was claiming her.
“This must be a mistake,” she heard herself say.
Corvain turned those winter gray eyes back to her.
Do I look like a man who makes mistakes? He didn’t.
He looked like a man who calculated every breath with lethal precision.
No, your majesty.
Then we understand each other.
The half-blood leaves with me tonight.
Consider your territo’s debts to the crown forgiven in exchange.
Seren saw her uncle’s expression shift.
Calculation replacing outrage.
Whatever Thornhaven owed was significant enough to make him swallow his pride.
Very well, Matis said slowly.
If your majesty wishes to collect her, we won’t stand in your way.
Collect? As if she were property.
Come, Corv said to Seren.
Not a request, a command.
She followed him through the parting crowd, whispers trailing in her wake.
He’ll tire of her in a week.
She’ll be dead within a month.
They reached the courtyard where a black carriage waited, drawn by horses whose eyes reflected crimson in the torch light.
Corain paused before entering.
You’re shaking.
Was she? Seren looked down, fine tremors running through her fingers, betraying the terror she’d been trying to suppress.
I apologize, your majesty.
Don’t get in.
The interior was warmer than she’d expected, lined with dark velvet, a small brazier burning in the corner.
The carriage lurched into motion.
They were alone.
“Why?” Saran finally asked.
“You could have anyone.
Princesses, noble women.
I’m worth nothing.
You’re wrong.
” He didn’t look at her.
You’re worth something to me.
What? You’ll find out when we reach Valdrus.
Are you going to hurt me? Surprise crossed his face, almost offended.
No.
Then what do you want from me? I want you to serve a purpose.
In exchange, you’ll have protection, comfort, and status.
Everything Thornhaven denied you.
And if I refuse, you won’t.
It was certainty, not arrogance, because you’re a survivor, and survivors don’t refuse chances to live.
The words struck deep because he was right.
Fine.
Seren whispered.
I’ll hear your offer when we reach Valdis.
Good.
Now sleep.
It’s a long journey.
She should have stayed awake, but exhaustion pulled at her.
And despite everything, she felt something unexpected.
Safe.
Her eyes drifted closed.
And she didn’t see Corv watching her.
Didn’t hear him whisper so quietly.
Even wolf ears would have missed it.
Finally, three days later, the carriage crested a ridge and Seren saw Valdrus for the first time.
The castle rose from the mountains like a crown of black stone and silver ice.
Towers pierced the clouds, their peaks lost in perpetual mist.
Even from this distance, she could feel the cold radiating from it.
By the time they reached the castle gates, Seren’s nerves were wound tight enough to snap.
She was led through corridors of black stone and silver fixtures to chambers larger than anything she’d ever occupied, a massive bed draped in white furs, a fireplace tall enough to stand in, windows overlooking frozen mountains.
The king will send for you this evening, a servant announced.
Clothing has been provided.
When the summons came, Seren followed a guard through the maze of corridors to the king’s private study.
Books lined every wall.
A fire crackled in the hearth, and standing behind the desk, his back to her, was Corvane.
“Sit,” he said without turning.
She lowered herself into a chair, heart thuting against her ribs.
The king turned.
In the fire light, exhaustion was etched into every line of his face.
I’m going to explain something to you and you’re going to listen without interruption.
Yes, your majesty.
He studied her for a long moment, then began.
12 years ago, I took the throne after my father’s death.
I inherited a curse on my bloodline placed by a witch 300 years ago.
Seren’s breath caught.
The curse is simple, Corv continued, his voice flat.
Every king of Valdrus slowly loses his wolf, his warmth, his ability to feel anything at all.
We become cold, literally and figuratively.
My father was a frozen shell by the time he died.
He held up his hand.
In the fire light, frost crystals formed on his skin.
I’m halfway there already.
She stared at the ice spreading across his palm, then receding, “Why are you telling me this?” “Because there’s one way to break the curse.
The king must find his true mate, his actual faded mate, chosen by the goddess herself.
” The weight of his attention pressed against her.
“For 12 years, I’ve searched,” he said.
“Met every eligible wolf in five kingdoms.
Felt nothing, not even a flicker.
” He paused.
Until three nights ago.
Seren’s breath faltered.
When you accepted your rejection without begging, my wolf woke up.
Not fully, but enough to recognize something.
I’m a halfblood, Saren protested.
A witch’s daughter.
I can’t be.
I don’t know what you are, but my wolf knows something, and I need to find out what.
He moved closer.
Here is my offer.
Stay in Valdris.
Let me attempt to discover whether you’re my true mate.
In exchange, you’ll be protected, provided for, and treated as an honored guest.
And if I’m not your mate, you’ll be free to go with enough gold to live comfortably forever.
And if I am, hope glimmered in those frozen eyes, buried beneath years of ice, but unmistakably present.
Then you’ll save my life and I’ll spend the rest of mine making sure you never regret it.
Seren looked at this cursed man slowly turning to ice from the inside out who had seen her accept rejection with dignity and felt his dying wolf stir.
I agree to your terms.
Corv exhaled slowly.
Good.
We begin tomorrow.
He turned back to the window.
One more thing.
I’m incapable of love.
The curse has taken that from me.
So whatever happens between us, never expect me to feel anything for you.
I understand, your majesty.
She opened the door and stepped through, and neither of them saw the small flame that flickered to life in her palm the moment she crossed the threshold.
A fire that had been dormant for 20 years now finally awakened.
The great hall of Valdrus was polished obsidian and silver filigree.
Chandeliers of crystal cast fractured light across hundreds of wolves dressed in their finest.
Every single one staring at Seren.
Lady Seren.
A servant appeared.
The king requests you join him at the high table.
The whispers started before she’d taken three steps.
That’s her, the half-blood from Thornhaven.
What is his majesty thinking? Bringing witch spawn into our court.
The high table sat on a raised platform.
Corvain occupied the central seat.
To his left, an empty chair.
To his right, a broad-shouldered lord with iron gray hair and a face like a clenched fist.
Lord Calder, the servant murmured.
The kings chief adviser.
He’s opposed your presence from the start.
Seren reached the platform and curtsied.
Sit, Corv said as she lowered herself into the chair.
Lord Calder’s gaze cut against her like a blade.
So this is the creature you’ve brought into our midst, he said loudly.
For 12 years you’ve refused every suitable match.
Princesses turned away, and now you present us with a half-blood nobody.
Your concern is noted, Corv said flatly.
And irrelevant.
Your Majesty, Lord Calder.
The temperature around the table dropped several degrees.
Frost crystallized along the edge of Corv’s plate.
You forget yourself.
The adviser’s face pald.
Lady Seren is here at my invitation, Corv continued.
She will be treated with respect due to any honored guest.
Anyone who fails to extend that courtesy will answer to me personally.
Silence.
Then heads began to nod throughout the hall.
Lord Calder sat back, fury barely suppressed.
Under the table, Seren’s hands trembled.
“You’re not eating,” Corvine said quietly for her ears alone.
“I’m not hungry, your majesty.
You need to eat.
You’re too thin.
Whatever they fed you in Thorn Haven wasn’t enough.
” He’d noticed.
This cold, distant king had noticed that she was underfed.
I wasn’t a priority there, she whispered.
You are here.
Three words, simple, devastating.
Why do you care? Corvain’s jaw tightened.
I don’t know, and that troubles me more than you can imagine.
The days that followed established a strange rhythm.
Each morning, Seren was summoned to Corv study for testing.
She would sit while he held her hand.
His frozen fingers wrapped around hers, waiting for some sign of the mate bond.
Nothing happened.
No spark.
No recognition, but he kept trying.
You’re frustrated, Saran observed on the fifth day.
I’m patient.
You’re lying.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Most people are afraid to call me a liar.
My fear reserves are depleted.
For one impossible moment, she thought his lips twitched, almost a smile.
That evening brought something different.
“There’s a formal reception tonight,” Corv announced.
“Ambassadors from the Eastern territories.
You’ll attend with me.
Is that wise? The ambassadors need to see stability.
A king with a potential mate suggests security.
So, I’m a prop.
You’re a strategic asset.
There’s a difference.
The gown was silver, true silver, the fabric catching light like moon beams made solid.
When Seren entered the great hall, Corvane crossed the room to meet her.
You’re wearing it, he said.
You sent it.
I wanted you to match me.
He gestured to his own attire, black threaded with silver.
We look like a pair, Seren realized.
King and queen.
He introduced her to ambassadors with smooth diplomacy, deflecting questions about her bloodline with subtle redirections.
“He’s protecting me,” she thought again.
3 hours in, exhaustion pulled at her.
“You need air,” Corv murmured.
He guided her through a side door onto a balcony overlooking frozen gardens.
“Better,” Seren gripped the stone railing.
I’m not used to this.
The constant attention in Thornhaven.
I was invisible.
I’ve been seen my entire life, Corv said quietly.
Every action scrutinized.
Never just a person.
Always a symbol.
That sounds lonely.
It is.
The admission hung in the frozen air between them.
Is that why you chose me? Seren asked.
Because I was the one person who didn’t see a king, who only saw a stranger making an impossible choice.
Corvain faced her fully.
In the moonlight, the frost in his eyes seemed to glow.
I chose you because when you accepted your rejection, something inside me woke up.
Something I thought had died years ago.
He stepped closer.
You’re the first person in 12 years who’s made me feel anything at all.
You said you were incapable of love.
Perhaps I was wrong.
His cold fingers brushed her cheek, sending electricity through her, and beneath her skin, deep in a place she didn’t know existed.
A fire stirred.
We should go back, Saren breathed.
But as they walked inside, his hand found hers.
Neither let go.
After that night, everything changed.
The testing sessions lasted longer, and when they ended, he didn’t send her away.
“Tell me about Thorn Haven,” he said one afternoon.
“Tell me what they did to you.
” So she told him her mother’s execution witnessed when she was 3 years old, her uncle’s cold charity, the servants who spat in her food, the children who threw stones, including her own cousin Vera, Matthysse’s daughter, the constant grinding knowledge that she was tolerated, never accepted.
When she finished, Corv’s expression could have frozen the sun.
If I’d known, he said quietly, I would have burned Thornhaven to the ground.
That night, he didn’t return her to her chambers.
“Dine with me,” he said.
“Not a command, a request.
They ate in his private quarters, the fire crackling, shadows dancing across the walls.
“You’re colder than yesterday,” Seren observed.
“I can see frost forming on your glass.
” Corvain looked at the ice crystals blooming across the goblet.
The curse progresses faster in winter.
And if we don’t find your mate before then? He didn’t answer.
Seren rose and took his frozen hand in both of hers, rubbing gently and channeling whatever warmth she had.
What are you doing? His voice was rough, trying to warm you.
No one touches me willingly.
Not like this.
Why not? Because I’m cold.
Because I’m the king.
Because I don’t deserve gentleness.
Everyone deserves gentleness.
A fisher appeared in his composure.
A crack in the ice.
I’ve done terrible things, he said.
Ordered executions, led wars.
I’m not a good man.
Monsters don’t fight this hard to stay human.
His gaze burned into hers.
Why do you keep trying to save me when I can give you nothing in return? Because I’m falling in love with you.
Because you’re the first person who ever thought I was worth saving, she said instead.
Corv closed his eyes.
Then slowly, deliberately, he pressed his lips to her palm.
The kiss was cold as winter, but beneath the ice, she felt a spark trying desperately to stay alive.
Stay tonight,” he whispered against her skin.
“Not for testing, not for politics.
Just stay.
” “Yes.
” She woke in darkness to find him shivering violently, ice crystals forming on his eyelashes.
“Corain.
” She pulled him closer, wrapping her body around his.
“Hold on to me.
” His arms clutched her convulsively.
The curse is accelerating.
He gasped.
“Something’s changed.
What could change it? Hope.
His teeth chattered.
The curse feeds on despair, but hope makes it fight harder to extinguish.
Understanding crashed through her.
You started hoping because of me.
For the first time in 12 years, I thought maybe I don’t have to die alone.
What do we do? I don’t know.
But whatever you are, you’re the only thing keeping me alive.
When you touch me, the cold recedes.
He pressed his forehead to hers.
I told you I couldn’t love you.
But lying here, feeling your warmth against my skin, he shuddered.
I think I’ve been falling since the moment you refused to beg.
Tears blurred her vision.
Don’t say you love me, he pleaded.
The curse takes everything I care about.
If we acknowledge it, it might come for you, too.
So instead, she kissed him.
It was soft, gentle, a question rather than an answer.
His lips warmed beneath hers, his hands tangled in her hair, and deep in her chest, fire ignited.
When they broke apart, Corvane stared with something like awe.
“Your eyes, they’re glowing.
” Sarin touched her face.
Her skin felt feverish.
“What’s happening to me?” But somewhere deep inside she already knew the witch blood was awake and nothing would put it back to sleep.
The next morning Corvane looked almost healthy.
Color in his cheeks, warmth in his skin.
Whatever you did last night, he said it helped.
A knock shattered the moment.
Your majesty.
Ambassadors from Thornhaven have arrived.
They’re demanding Lady Seren’s return.
Ice crystallized across Corv’s knuckles.
Are they? The council chamber was chaos.
Lord Calder stood at one end of the table.
Across from him, flanked by guards, stood Matis and Aldrich Vaughn.
“My dear niece,” Matthis smiled.
“We’ve been so worried about you.
” “She is home,” Corv said.
“Your majesty, surely you understand our position.
Having witch spawn at your side when the curse on your bloodline was placed by a witch is my choice, not yours.
The Council of Territories will hear of this.
The Council of Territories answers to me.
Ice spread across the floor toward Matthysse’s boots.
Lady Seren remains in Valdris under my protection.
Leave within the hour or I’ll consider it an act of war.
Aldrich surged forward.
You can’t threaten us over that creature.
She’s nothing, my mate.
Silence crashed through the chamber.
Corv turned to Seren.
My mate, the one the goddess chose for me.
And I will burn every territory from here to the eastern sea before I let anyone take her from me.
The moment he spoke those words, something snapped into place.
The mate bond.
It hit like lightning.
his cold, his fear, his desperate love flooding through her and her warmth flooding into him.
Corane gasped, staggering, “What’s happening? The bond is fighting the curse.
” But the curse wasn’t surrendering.
Frost exploded across his skin, coating his arms, crawling toward his face.
“No,” he grabbed her hands.
“Not now.
Not when I finally stay with me.
Fight it.
I can’t.
The curse knows I love you.
Love.
He’d finally said it.
And the curse was killing him for it.
Tell me how to stop it.
Find the witch who cast it.
He gasped.
Her bloodline.
My scholars found records.
A descendant lives somewhere in.
His voice failed.
His eyes rolled back.
He collapsed.
Corv.
Deep inside her, the fire roared to life.
The world narrowed to a single point.
Corvain dying in her arms.
The curse consuming him.
The bond screaming as it felt him slipping away.
Seren pressed her hands to his chest directly over his frozen heart and pushed.
Not physically, deeper.
With the fire building inside her, the witch blood that had been dormant her entire life.
Heat exploded from her palms.
The frost sizzled.
Steam rose.
The ice retreated slightly, buying them time, but not enough.
Lady Saren.
Her maid Marin appeared, face pale but determined.
I need to tell you something about the curse and about your mother.
Tell me everything.
Your mother didn’t kill Lord Vin, Marin said quickly.
She discovered a secret someone powerful wanted buried.
That’s why she died.
What secret? The curse wasn’t placed by a random witch 300 years ago.
It was placed by your ancestor, a Blackwood witch betrayed by the first king of Valdrus.
Saren’s blood ran cold.
He loved her.
Promised to make her queen.
But when she became pregnant, he cast her aside for a pure-blooded wolf princess.
So she cursed his line.
Every king would slowly lose the ability to feel, and the only way to break it was for a king to truly love someone of her bloodline.
Your mother found the records.
She was going to use them to negotiate protection for you.
But someone found out.
Someone who didn’t want the curse broken.
Who? Before Marin could answer, a hand closed around Serene’s throat.
Lord Calder, did you really think I’d let you ruin everything? He snarled.
Generations of planning, centuries of the Calder family guiding cold, malleable kings, and you thought you could waltz in here and destroy it all.
You knew this whole time.
I arranged your mother’s execution.
His smile was grotesque.
She came to me first.
thought I’d help her.
I gave her testimony to the wolves who wanted her dead.
And when you showed up at that rejection ceremony, I thought the threat had finally passed.
Through the bond, Seren felt Corv’s life force flickering, fading.
He’ll be dead in minutes, Calder hissed.
And you’ll follow.
Something shifted inside Seren.
not fear, rage, pure incandescent fury at every person who had taken from her her mother, her dignity, and now the man she loved.
The fire erupted.
Golden flames burst from her skin, forcing Calder to release her with a scream of agony.
Seren turned, wreathed in fire, her eyes blazing amber.
My mother was innocent.
My bloodline carries the key to breaking this curse.
And you murdered her for it.
Calder scrambled backward, face blistered.
You’re supposed to be bound.
I was never bound.
My mother hid my power so deep even I couldn’t find it until love woke it up.
She advanced.
Fire trailing in her footsteps.
You took my mother from me and you almost took him.
Guards.
No one moved.
Sarin raised her hand.
Wait.
Corv conscious barely.
Don’t kill him for me, he rasped.
Don’t become a murderer for me.
The fire faltered.
He deserves to die.
Yes, but not by your hand.
Not with that stain on your soul.
The dungeons.
Let him rot, watching his plans crumble.
Seren looked at Calder cowering on the floor.
Take him, she told the guards.
If he escapes, I’ll burn Vald to the ground looking for him.
They believed her.
Then she was kneeling beside Corv.
How do I save you? You already are.
He smiled weakly.
Kiss me.
She pressed her lips to his.
Fire poured from her into him, not to burn, but to heal.
The curse recoiled, shrieking.
300 years of hatred meeting 300 years of waiting.
And she felt something else.
Her ancestor reaching across centuries.
Break it.
A voice whispered.
End what I started in grief.
Let him love.
Sarin pushed harder.
Gave everything she had.
The ice shattered.
It exploded outward from Corv’s chest in a shower of crystals, dissipating before they touched the ground.
Color flooded back into his face.
And through the bond, she felt warmth rushing toward her.
His own warmth returning after 12 years of winter.
“The curse is gone,” he breathed.
“I can feel everything.
” He pulled her into his arms.
The embrace was warm.
Actually, genuinely warm.
“You saved me, my mate, my fire.
” 3 months later, Valdrus gathered for a wedding.
Seren stood at the altar in a gown of crimson and gold, flames embroidered along the hem.
Her dark hair was crowned with flowers from the gardens she’d helped thaw, the first blooms Valdrus had seen in decades.
Corv waited for her, dressed in colors other than black for the first time anyone remembered.
Deep blue and silver, matching the reformed Valdress banners that now bore a flame alongside the traditional wolf.
I love you, he said as she reached him.
I will love you until the stars burn out and beyond.
I love you too since the moment you saw me as someone worth claiming.
When they kissed to seal the union, fire and warmth merged into something unbreakable.
At the feast, Marin approached with a letter.
This arrived from Thornhaven, your majesty.
It was from her cousin Vera, the girl who had once been among those throwing stones and spitting insults.
I was wrong, the letter read about everything.
Father has been arrested for conspiracy in your mother’s execution.
His lies have been exposed.
I don’t expect forgiveness, but I wanted you to know your mother’s name has been cleared, and I am ashamed it took this long to see the truth.
Saren read the words three times.
“It’s over,” she whispered.
“All of it.
” Corvain pressed a kiss to her temple.
“No, it’s just beginning.
” He was right.
The witch blood that had been her curse was now her gift.
The king who couldn’t love now loved so fiercely it warmed everyone around him.
The half-blood nobody had become a queen whose fire freed an entire kingdom from generations of ice.
And somewhere across the veil between worlds, two women watched.
Isolda Blackwood, who had died protecting her daughter’s power, and her ancestor, the first Blackwood witch, who had finally seen her curse become a blessing.
She did it, Isolda whispered.
She chose love over vengeance, just as I should have.
They watched as Seren and Corvain danced at their wedding, watched as warmth spread through Valdris for the first time in 300 years.
They’ll be happy, Isolda said, tears of peace streaming down her spectral face.
Yes, they will.
And they were
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
