He is my ruin.
My complete and utter devastation.

Loyalty or death.
I make my choice in a palace of flames, and wake to total darkness . . .

And at his mercy.

Calloused hands bring hell to my door and his velvet voice spews only poison.

“A traitor to the queen,” he calls me, and though I don’t know his name, it’s clear that he’s no Prince Charming.

Monster.
Villain.
A man who demands that I take it all—and submit.

But no one will ever mistake me for a damsel in distress.

He wants me on my knees, but it won’t be me who breaks.

Only, falling for the most hated man in England was not the plan.

If war is hell, then love is carnage, and the blood that’s spilled belongs to us both.