Chapter 1

“You filthy heretic! I can’t believe they’re still keeping you alive! If it were me, I would’ve burned you to ash by now!”

My new fiancé, Valen, lunged at me like a madman. He pinned me to the ground.

His fingers were iron clamps around my neck.

I struggled, but I was no match for a trained knight.

“Valen, murder will damn you to the abyss!”

“Killing filth like you is clearing a path for the gods!”

He ignored me. He drove his knee hard into my stomach.

A sharp pain exploded in my gut. All the fight went out of me.

My breath grew shallow. I could feel the cold shadow of death.

Valen finally let go. Before he left, he kicked me twice with his iron-shod boots.

“Killing you would only stain my sword,” he said, looking down at me. “May the gods purify your filth.”

He turned and walked down the steps without a second glance.

He was the tenth one.

I’m thirty. Ten long years.

Every man who promised to marry me, every knight who swore to break this city’s superstitions, turned into my executioner after stepping into that temple.

A white shadow fell over me.

My father, Kael, stood before me. Dressed in his spotless High Priest robes.

He didn't ask if I was hurt.

He raised his staff.

Purple lightning shot out, striking me in the chest.

The force threw me back. I slammed into a stone pillar and slid to the ground.

The air filled with the smell of burning flesh.

The lightning strikes lasted for half an hour.

Three broken ribs.

Two fingers, charred and twisted.

I lay in a pool of my own blood. Every breath was agony.

“Your soul is still impure,” Kael said, his voice flat. “This angers the gods.”

The same perfect excuse. Always.

To the world, he was the perfect widower, devoted to his late wife. The selfless High Priest.

He used “divine punishment” to hide his brutality against his own daughter.

And the whole city praised him for his righteousness.

But last month, I contacted a friend in the capital. I asked about the blessing at the Temple of Hera.

He checked the royal archives.

No other city-state has this insane custom.

They hold festivals in their temples all the time. No one ever comes out a completely different person.

My friend even asked if my father was rigging the temple somehow.

But when I tried to go in myself, he refused. He said the sanctuary was for male priests only. I wasn't worthy.

Asking too many questions just earned me more “punishment.”

He never, ever treated my two adopted sisters this way.

I started to wonder if I was even his daughter.

I even cast a bloodline spell in secret. The runes didn't lie. I am his flesh and blood.

I even thought he hated me because he hated my mother.

But my mother has been dead for years, and he never remarried.

He refused everyone who tried to find him a new partner.

“My wife was the love of my life. I will never marry another.”

Everyone knew how devoted my father was. How much he doted on his children.

No one believed me.

They definitely didn't believe he was trying to kill me.

The pain in my chest was tearing me apart. I fought to stay conscious.

No. I can’t die here.

I pulled a sending stone from my torn dress.

My fingers were useless. I crushed the gem with my teeth.

“Grandmother… Uncle… help me.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the heavy manor gates burst open with a gust of wind.

My uncle, a Holy Knight, strode in.

His massive greatsword scraped the ground, kicking up sparks.

My grandmother, a high sorceress, followed close behind. Her healing staff glowed with a soft green light.

“Elara!” Grandmother ran to me, kneeling by my side.

Warm magic flowed into me.

My broken ribs stopped shifting. The sharp pain from my wounds began to fade.

My uncle aimed his greatsword at Kael’s throat. His voice was low, seething with rage. “Give me one reason not to take your head.”

Kael didn’t flinch.

He straightened his cuffs, his gaze flicking over the greatsword.

“Go inside and see,” Kael said, stepping aside to reveal the temple door. “See what your precious niece has been hiding from you.”

My uncle snorted. “Smoke and mirrors. Let's see what excuse you've cooked up.”

He hefted his sword and stepped into the dark temple.

Grandmother stroked my hair, wiping the blood from my face.

“Don’t be afraid, Elara. When your uncle comes out, we’ll take you back to the capital. He will never touch you again.”

Hope fluttered in my chest.

My only light in this hell.

But three minutes passed.

My uncle came back out.

He wasn't holding his sword.

The greatsword, his symbol of honor, dropped to the ground with a thud.

His face was pale. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

“Uncle?” I whispered. “What did you see…?”

He strode toward me. Raised his hand.

And slapped me.

The blow sent me sprawling.

A sharp ringing filled my ears. The taste of rust and blood filled my mouth.

Grandmother froze. “What are you doing?!”

My uncle didn't answer. He snatched the healing staff from her hands.

The base of the staff slammed into my forehead.

Skin split.

Blood gushed out, blinding my left eye.

“Uncle…” My voice trembled in disbelief.

My uncle grabbed my grandmother, whispering frantically in her ear.

I forced my right eye open, watching her face.

The love and pity in her eyes… vanished.

She looked down at me.

The same way Valen had. The same way Kael had.

“Hold her down,” Grandmother’s voice was ice.

My uncle grabbed my shoulders.

Grandmother took back her staff.

The soft green healing light died.

Blinding crimson flames erupted from the staff’s tip. The heat warped the air.

She aimed the burning staff at my face.

“I'll burn this vile heresy out of you myself,” she spat, “and I'll face the gods' judgment for it!”