The Immortals

It was our sixth wedding anniversary. Lord Tom didn't pledge his vows to me, but instead gave me his family's crest—a dim, unstable mark, the mark of a blood slave. That very night, while solemn hymns echoed through the hall, he performed a blood oath ceremony with his pure-blood first love, Lady Mia. I refused the mark. He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Love is a luxury only immortals can afford, Rowling," he said. "My union with Mia is a political necessity—to maintain the purity of the bloodline." His gaze turned icy. "You are a mortal. You should be content with my protection. Few receive such a blessing." I didn't speak.I left before dawn. Six years later, we met again at a banquet hosted by the Vampire High Council. Tom walked in with Mia, her silk dress shimmering silver in the moonlight. Under his rule, his family was about to gain a seat in the Senate. His gaze found me. I stood in the hotel's decorative fountain, the water up to my ankles, soaking wet, sand clinging to my dress. A familiar look of contempt flickered across his face. "Rowling," he said coldly. "You refused my protection, mocked my generosity. Now you're rummaging through a public fountain like a beggar." The corners of his mouth curled slightly. "Do you really think any vampire would take in a mortal without a protector?" I didn't look up. I was searching for my son's tourmaline that had fallen into the water. But to my son, it was a seal—an ancient restraint, suppressing a power that shouldn't awaken so early. I could already feel it weakening. If the seal cannot be repaired in time, the power erupting within him will destroy the entire building.

Sera Ashford is a Null—a walking void where magic and memory go to die. Dogs hate her. Spells slide off her skin. And the supernatural world would kill to own her blood. But Sera doesn't know any of this. She just knows she got fired from her diner job for "creeping out the customers." Then she meets Kael Valerius in a rain-soaked alley. Kael is a Voidborn—the first vampire, cursed for nine hundred years to hear the screams of every life he's ever taken. Witches he burned. Kings he betrayed. A little boy with dark curls who just wants his mother. The voices never stop. They never forgive. And they've been driving him slowly, exquisitely mad. But when Kael touches Sera, the screaming stops. Desperate for silence, he offers her a contract: stand at his side during the Conclave of Thorns—a gathering of every bloodline, coven, and pack with a grudge—and he'll pay her enough to erase her debts. One month. Then freedom. The deal shatters the moment their hands meet. Sera doesn't just silence Kael's curse. She absorbs it. Now the voices scream inside her skull. Ghosts wearing familiar faces crawl out of the walls. And a dead woman named Margot—Kael's former Tether, who clawed out her own eyes—whispers warnings in the dark. Trapped on Kael's estate, bound by a curse that will tear her mind apart if she strays too far, Sera has thirty days to master the deadly politics of immortals, survive the hungry ghosts inside her, and uncover the truth Kael buried with Margot. Because the curse doesn't just collect the dead. It remembers how they loved him. And in a world where regret is a hungry god, Sera might be the only one who can end the feast—or become its next meal.

My sister and I were promised in marriage by our father, Eses, the God of Skies. She was to wed Dexaldir, the Keeper of Fate, the one who recorded the destinies of gods and mortals. I was to wed Guerrian, the God of War. But on the day of our wedding, their beloved woman, Seraphine, leapt from the Starfall Spire, the ancient tower where even immortals would die if they fell. After that, the four of us lived together in harmony. We were praised as the most devoted divine couples in the Celestial Skies. A hundred years later, during the war between the Celestial Skies and the Phlegethon Legion, Guerrian and Dexaldir betrayed us. They lured us into a trap and handed us over to the Phlegethon Demons. My husband, Guerrian, smirked at me. "Seraphine, it must have hurt when you fell from the Starfall Spire. I have finally avenged you today!" Next to him, Dexaldir held up an emerald pendant that was given to him by Seraphine. He murmured affectionately, "Seraphine, this day has finally come. They will pay the price! Wait for me. I'll soon find you a way to regain your body." Only then did my sister and I understand. They believed that we forced Seraphine to jump. The Phlegethon Demons kept us alive for 16 days. 16 days of torture. They tore the divine core from my sister's chest, destroying both her body and soul. As for me, due to my innate beauty, I was humiliated to death by the demon leader. When I opened my eyes once more, we were back to the day when our father promised us our marriages. I turned my head and saw my sister looking back at me. I knew she had been reborn too. We both smiled. Before our father could finish speaking, I stepped forward and interrupted him, "Father, I have a different idea."