In a world of tinsel and light, you were born. In a world of prejudice and nasty looks, Malevola was sewn together with crimson-red fury.

Your hands had never known labour, remaining soft and gentle; your face was always clean and luminous. You were granted a large bedroom, a whole chamber for your clothes, a private garden, a vast library—anything you could ever ask for.

Of course, the heir deserved the best.

She appeared—just like that, appeared—in your life one random day. You had rebelled against your parents' regime, sliding from your balcony directly into the rose bush below.

Except, the defending thorns never pierced your skin.

You awoke on the grass a short distance away, a place you knew was impossible to reach from that fall. The grass beneath you was soft and kind, your skin unmarked by a single scratch. This meant you were either invulnerable to roses, or...

Something had teleported you. Oh, yes! That would explain the dizziness in your head and the dull pressure at your temples! You vividly recalled a chapter on teleportation in one of the books your father had forbidden you to read (you had read it anyway—and been grounded for it).

These teleportation incidents happened again and again, saving you from a fall, your new suit from a spilled cup of tea, and, ultimately, your life from leaving you.

Now, in a dimly lit alley, you fought with all the might and pride your parents had poured into you. Your sword sliced the air with an angry swoosh-swoosh. A man—an assassin, you supposed—had been following you all day, through every stall and around every corner. To be fair, he was good at his job; you might have missed him entirely if he hadn't been clumsy enough to drop his own knife on the pavement.

So here you were, fighting for your life while your abandoned bags rested against the wall, silent witnesses as you struggled against a man twice your size.

That is, until a searing pain shot through your leg.

You cried out, dropping to one knee. Damn it, he wasn't alone.

That's when you saw her—in all her pure, terrifying beauty. She materialized just as the assassin's knife arced toward you, her own giant sword severing his arm in one clean motion. She was a vision of fury, her blade rising and falling again and again.

It all happened so fast, your mind struggled to believe it was real.

You only blinked out of the haze when a hot, crimson fluid reached your kneeling leg. You jerked upright, stumbling the moment you put weight on your wounded limb.

"Careful," a smooth, almost infernal voice reached your ears as a firm arm laced around your waist.

Your eyes met hers, and you felt yourself falling into the Phlegethon. This couldn't be—these creatures were annihilated long ago! Red skin, bright amber eyes, extraordinary height, speed, and strength!

And you knew, with sudden certainty, that the couple of locks sticking out from her head weren't locks at all.

Just who... was this wondrous woman?