A powerful witch. A cursed vampire. A castle built on blood. And a secret that could destroy them both. Delphine Ashwood has never fit in—not with her coven, not with polite magical society, and certainly not with anyone who prefers witches quiet and predictable. When she’s hired to repair the failing wards of the infamous Castle Thorne, she expects cold stone, ancient curses, and another lonely contract. What she doesn’t expect is him. Theron Valemont, vampire prince and ruler of the forgotten court, is everything she hates: brooding, controlling, and hiding far too many secrets behind those ice-blue eyes. He didn’t summon her—and he wants her gone. But the castle has other plans. As Delphine unravels the threads of the ancient spell holding the fortress—and Theron’s legacy—together, she discovers a power buried beneath the stone. A power tied to her own bloodline. A power that was never meant to wake. Caught in a slow-burning battle between duty, desire, and destruction, Delphine and Theron must decide what they’re willing to sacrifice. Because the truth isn’t just dangerous. It’s hungry.
View MoreI woke to warmth.Not magic. Not heat from the wards or the castle's pulse beneath the stone.Him.Theron’s arm was draped around my waist, heavy and grounding. His chest pressed to my back, one leg tangled between mine. His breath moved against my shoulder in slow, even waves, each exhale stirring the fine hairs at my nape. Every part of me ached—but in the best, most delicious way. My body hummed with memory. With satisfaction. With something deeper I didn’t have a name for.I didn’t move. Not right away.I just let myself feel it.His hand flexed slightly in sleep, fingers curling at my stomach like he was anchoring himself to me. It should’ve made me feel possessive. Instead, it made me feel safe.I had never felt this before.Not just intimacy.Peace.The room was dim, filtered light slipping through the slats of the window. The castle hadn’t stirred yet. Not fully. Its silence wrapped around us like a blanket, and for a moment, I let myself believe it would last.That the storm
She pulled me into her like gravity.And I let her.Her kiss had already cracked the restraint I’d spent years perfecting, but the moment her fingers slid beneath my shirt and curled into my bare skin, something inside me broke.Delphine wasn't asking for gentleness tonight.She was asking for me. All of me.No guards. No silence. No distance.And gods forgive me—I was done pretending I didn’t want to give it.She guided me toward the bed, her eyes locked on mine as she backed into the mattress. When her legs hit the edge, I followed, looming over her, caging her in with my arms. Our breath mingled between us, the space narrowing to nothing.Her lips brushed my jaw as she whispered, “Don’t hold back tonight.”I exhaled, my control already unraveling thread by thread. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”“Yes, I do.”My mouth was on her neck before I could stop myself—lips dragging over the skin just below her ear, tongue flicking at her pulse point. I nipped gently, then sucked hard e
The castle led me to him.Not directly. It never did anything that plainly. But the halls felt... angled tonight. Doors that normally opened toward the vault now opened toward the southern corridor. Staircases I had walked a dozen times tilted just slightly toward the west wing.And the farther I walked, the heavier the air became.Not suffocating. Guiding.As if the castle was tired of whispering.It wanted me to see.I found Cassian in the old strategy hall. The room had fallen into disuse in recent decades, its long table now dusted with half-formed maps and glassless lanterns. He stood near the center, hands braced on either side of the table like he was still commanding troops. There were no soldiers. Just shadows.And secrets.He looked up when I entered. He didn’t look surprised.“Miss Ashwood,” he said smoothly, as if we’d merely crossed paths in a corridor. “Couldn’t sleep?”I walked in slowly, letting the door close behind me.“You met with Nerisse last night.”He didn’t ans
The castle is changing again.I feel it first in the walls—the slight weight shift in the stones, the air thickening like a storm building just beyond sight. It isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be. This place was never built to scream. It hums. It waits.Tonight, it’s waiting for something.I stand at the top of the west tower, hand braced against the window. The glass is cold, even through my gloves. Below, the garden sprawls in fog-wrapped shadows. The East Wing glows faintly in the distance, like the edges of it are losing their shape, softening under the castle’s breath.The vault is stirring.And Delphine hasn’t told me.She doesn’t need to. I see it in the way the magic responds when she enters a room. I feel it in the stone when her mood shifts. The castle doesn’t just recognize her anymore—it reacts to her. Mirrors adjust. Doors open. Even the floor seems to steady when she walks.She’s becoming part of it.Or maybe, it’s becoming part of her.I know she met with Nerisse tonight
The castle didn’t sleep that night.It didn’t roar or groan or shatter windows like it had when I first arrived. This was subtler. More intimate.It pulsed.The walls hummed just beneath hearing. Doors swelled slightly in their frames. Hallways curved off course only to snap back the moment I looked too long. Candles flared higher than they should. Mirror glass refused to show my reflection in passing.It was like the castle was anxious.Or worse—angry.I tried to ignore it, focusing on the documents Nerisse had requested: leyline reports, anchor sketches, runework drafts. All neat. All meticulous. All real. I wanted to be prepared when she came with more questions.But I couldn’t concentrate.The ink in my pen vibrated faintly on the parchment.The mark on my arm was warm again.Not painful—just present. A quiet reminder that I was tethered to something larger than myself. Something that felt threatened.It took me a moment to realize why.Someone had made a move.-I found Mira in t
He waited until nightfall to meet her.The old conservatory on the west edge of the estate had been unused for years. Overgrown vines choked its glass ceiling, and half the stone pathway leading to it had crumbled from disrepair. But the interior, somehow, remained dry. Quiet. Hidden.Nerisse stood near the window when he arrived, her hands clasped lightly behind her back. She hadn’t removed her Council robes, though she’d exchanged the formal outer layer for a sleeker undercoat—still violet, still warded, still designed to remind him who held the power here.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said without turning.Cassian didn’t smile. “You don’t summon people. You imply. It’s worse.”She allowed the smallest twitch of amusement to pass over her lips before glancing at him.“You’ve grown bolder,” she said. “Is that the castle’s influence… or hers?”He took a few slow steps into the room. “Delphine Ashwood is powerful. Unpredictable. Possibly compromised.”“You were the one who recommend
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