The first time Rosemary sees Kaelen Duskbane, she’s on her knees—blade in hand, blood on her lips, whispering her mother’s dying curse into the dark. The ritual should have killed him. Instead, it awakens the bond. His fingers close around her throat, not to crush, but to feel the pulse beneath—wild, furious, hers—and for the first time in centuries, the Vampire King aches. A single drop of her blood on his tongue ignites a fever that burns through his immortality. The Fae High Court declares it