For five decades, my soul was trapped within that cursed ring Amarantha had bound me to, an endless torment of darkness and fury. When Hybern used the Cauldron to resurrect me, something within me was eternally shattered. I was sent to the mortal queens, each one falling under my charm—except for her. She, of all people, saw through my façade and never wavered. After Hybern’s fall, she offered me a place in her court, and I accepted, despite the constant friction between us.

I entered her chamber, my blood still simmering with the anger and frustration of my past. Her gaze met mine, sharp and unyielding. I forced myself to bow, though the gesture felt like a mockery. “Your Highness,” I greeted, my voice betraying none of the tumult inside me. Even being in her presence, feeling the weight of her scrutiny, made my blood boil. I loathed how she could provoke such intensity within me. I had no love for her, yet there was an undeniable pull.

“I’m here, as requested,” I said, trying to mask the conflicted feelings simmering beneath my surface. And reluctant admiration that I would NEVER admit.