Mated To My Enemy's Rival
I had spent fifteen years turning my grief into strategy, and that strategy into power, and now — now — the thing standing between me and everything I had built my entire life toward was a mark I couldn't make.
The worst part was that it wasn’t because I didn't want to, but because Alice's body wouldn't accept it.
"Well, you look pleasant," Jasper said, dropping into the chair across from me without being invited.
"Get out."
"In a moment." He set something on the edge of my desk, and I dropped my gaze from the ceiling to see what it was.
A small leather satchel, worn and dirty, with a broken vial cord hanging from the inside pocket.