I was a princess of the underworld. And he was a thief, a death-dealer, a spinner of deceit.
He had hunted me, captured me, and locked me in a tower.
I swore I would find freedom, even if it meant tearing through him, leaving him broken and bleeding at my feet. For I was a Wychthorn and I would bow to no one.
My twentieth birthday was soon approaching. The Witches Ball not long after.
The first threat loomed—the Crowthers' desperate need for a Goods Appraisal. And that means enticing the Horned Gods' interest.
I had little time left to find a way to escape the Keep. And him, Graysen Crowther. A man intrinsically bound to my soul.
But as I stood regally upon a dais, paraded in front of all the Houses as leverage against my father, a Horned God offered me salvation.
Of course, nothing is ever given away for free.