For centuries, the kingdoms of Virelia and Thornecrest had been bitter enemies. War carved deep lines into the lands, and none felt its weight more than Tristin Thorne, the cold and calculating Prince of Thornecrest, and Elora Virelian, the fierce and defiant Princess of Virelia.

Their hatred was born of legacy — Elora’s brother had died at the hands of Thornecrest’s soldiers, and Tristin’s father was slain by Virelia’s mages. They’d faced each other on battlefields, across diplomatic tables, and in assassination plots. They were each other’s nightmares — and equals.

To everyone’s shock — and fury — the Oracle named Elora and Tristin by name.

A marriage, the kings declared. A bond that would end the war. Neither had a choice.

At the wedding, Elora wore crimson as a sign of her defiance. Tristin wore black, a symbol of mourning for his pride. Their vows were spat through clenched teeth. The kiss was staged. The tension? Real enough to burn the cathedral down.

But what neither expected was what came after.