Book 1 & Book 2

The Vale townhouse on Belgrave Square always felt like a mu-

seum of everything I didn't belong to. Marble floors stretched

beneath my feet like frozen rivers of light, and Baccarat

chandeliers hung overhead like captured constellations, each

prism refracting a thousand tiny flames. I moved carefully

through the crowd, my Dolce & Gabbana gown swishing

against the polished stone, Louboutins clicking softly, as if

the sound alone could anchor me here.

My skin, warm cinnamon with a golden glow, felt almost too

alive under the candlelight. I caught my reflection in one of the

enormous mirrors lining the hall and barely recognized the

porcelain perfection staring back at me: flawless, symmetrical,

almost unreal. My grey ash-blonde hair framed my face in soft

waves, tumbling to my shoulders, and my gold-blue eyes—

glass-like and luminous—surveyed the room with detached

curiosity.

I didn't belong here. I never had. And yet, something inside

me hummed with anticipation, like the air itself was vibrating

in response to something unseen. I could feel it before I saw

him.