LOGINRomy, 23.
Present Day. “That dress,” Camellia noted, her polished finger pointing directly at my neck as I turned slightly in the full-length mirror. “It doesn't cover the tattoo.” “Why are you so bothered about her tattoo?” Erica asked from the vanity chair. She was the chief bridesmaid, Amy's younger sister, and four years older than me. Camellia, a brown-haired, blue-eyed friend of the family, crossed her arms. “I just think her dress is too revealing. It’s bad etiquette if a bridesmaid looks prettier than the bride, don't you think?” From the moment I had stepped into the luxury suite here in Buston, I had wanted to claw Camellia’s eyes out. She’d been glaring at me all morning while pretending not to. Looking at her heavily made-up face and heavily beaded gown, it was obvious she was the one trying desperately to outshine everyone in the room. “You should look in the mirror, Cam,” Erica flung out absentmindedly, blending the last of her setting powder. “I think you're the one trying a little too hard today.” A low, dark smile curved my lips. “Erica!” Kathy gasped. Erica simply shrugged. “Look at her, Kathy. Tell her not to ruin the wedding. Whatever Romy chose to wear was approved by Amy, which means it is technically no one’s business. You all need to be out in the hall in ten minutes.” After the fire thirteen years ago, Amy’s mother, our former housekeeper, had taken me in, adding me to her house of four girls. Carly, Erica, Kathy, and of course Amy. Amy, our bride, I owed her my life for saving me from the hands of that devil, Rowan Ashwing-Kael Vexley. Vengeance burned in my chest for thirteen years– his cold, monstrous face haunted my dreams every single night. I had sworn to the ashes of my home that I would find him, and I would utterly destroy him. “Earth to Romy!” Kathy called, snapping her fingers an inch from my nose. “We are about to start.” I ignored their side talks and turned to follow them toward the door, just as a heavy vibration buzzed against my thigh from the hidden pocket in my silk skirt. I paused, leaning slightly toward Kathy. “I'll be right back.” Kathy eyes narrowed. “Where are you going? We're supposed to—” I was already walking down the hallway cutting her off. I slipped into a private, marble-lined restroom down the hall and locked the heavy oak door behind me. Reaching into the slit of my dress, I pulled out the encrypted burner phone. I tapped the single blinking dot on the screen. The line connected immediately. “Whose information did you just send me, Xry?” I demanded, fuming at the interruption. “Check the file,” the distorted voice echoed back. I opened the secured document. TARGET: The Beast of Flames REWARD: $20,000,000 EXPIRY: 04:00 AM [This message will self-destruct in 30 seconds] I scoffed, placing the phone back to my ear. “Fuck me. How am I supposed to locate him when no one in the underground knows what he looks like?” I asked. “The only thing the files say is that he can burn a city to the ground with a flicker of his fingers.” Everyone knows of the Beast of Flames, but no one knew what he looked like. He's the most wanted assassin in the world, and the most dangerous. But that had never stopped me before. Xry’s voice came through the speaker. “He's currently at the building you're in. Eliminate him before dawn.” I paused, staring at the phone. “He's where? Are you aware I'm at a wedding?” “It’s Amy’s wedding. Of course I know.” “And I'm supposed to ruin her reception by hunting down some invisible fire bender in an evening gown?” “That fire bender is a massive threat to the Hunters,” Xry snapped. “You have to do as you're told, Romy, or you lose twenty million dollars. Worse, you lose any protection and intel you need for your personal mission.” I huffed “Fine. How do I find him in a crowd of four hundred people?” “I'll send a picture of him in a minute.” “You have a picture of the Beast of Flames?!” I asked, as I unlocked the restroom door and stepped back out into the hallway, heading back. “That's news to me.” “Well, some miracle happened, and a street camera caught his face during a border crossing… oh, shit!” I stopped walking. “What?” “There's no way…” Xry’s voice was filled with panic. “There’s no way he's the Flames. I need to inquire with the guild if eliminating him is even an option anymore. I just sent you the picture.” Then the line went dead. And moments later, my phone dinged in my hand. I pulled the phone away from my ear, tapping the image file just as I reached the massive, gold double doors of the reception hall. As I pushed them open, a sudden, chaotic gasp erupted from the hundreds of guests inside. At that exact moment, a sharp, blistering heat slashed across my throat. I gasped, my free hand flying to my neck. Beneath the ink of the raven, my cursed mark was pulsing with a violent, burn– one I hadn't felt in thirteen long years. My vision blurred slightly as I struggled to look at the photo. I froze, my jaw tightening instantly.Staring back at me were the familiar, cold gray eyes of the monster who had haunted my dreams for thirteen years.
Rowan Ashwing-Kael Vexley,the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil and the Fire Lord of the Ashwing bloodline. He was the Beast of Flames? I stumbled backward, the edges of my vision blackening with the same rage I’d felt thirteen years ago as I imagined all the Greyson ways to kill him without causing a scene. A panicked guest, backing rapidly away from whatever was happening inside the hall, slammed hard into my shoulder. My phone slipped from my grip and fell to the floor with a loud thud. I stared blankly at the floor, my lungs refusing to take in air as everything came rushing back. Fire and blood, Alina dying in the grass. And Rowan, driving a dagger straight into her chest. The memory hit me so hard it felt like no time had passed at all. Just then, a pair of polished, expensive leather shoes stepped into my line of sight. Large, veiny hands reached down, retrieving my phone from the carpet. Slowly, pulling myself out of the suffocating daze, I raised my head to muffle a mechanical thank you but the words died on my tongue as soon as I lifted my gaze. Standing in front of me, was the man from the photograph.The same man I had trained my entire life to slaughter. He looked godly in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his broad shoulders blocking out the light seeping from the window opposite where stood. He wasn’t glaring at me. He was looking at me like I was the only person in the room. A soft, tender smile curved his lips as he took a step towards me. He leaned forward and uttered the one word I never imagined would leave his lips. “Mate.” The air left my lungs in a sharp, agonizing gasp. The monster who murdered my family, the ruthless Beast of Flames, was my fated alpha. Before I could even process the horror, his large hand wrapped firmly around my waist, pulling my body flush against his chest. “You have no idea how long I've waited for you, ” he whispered against my ear, causing a chill to run down my spine.Rowan povBy the sixth morning, I was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, watching Romy drag her thumb along the edge of the washstand.A thin line cut through the dust beneath her touch.The bruising on her neck had finally started to fade. The deep purple beneath her jaw was turning yellow around the edges, like an old bruise finally giving up the fight. The marks from my fangs were almost hidden under her hair now. She thought the bond was nothing more than a desperate measure to keep her alive, well that was exactly what I wanted her to believe.If she learned the truth too soon, she’d run. She’d climb over the orchard wall, disappear into the forest, and keep running until the poison finished what it had started.She thought I’d only bitten her to pull the silver from her body and keep her alive. That was the story I’d given her, and for now, it was the one she believed.Romy reached for the tin cup on the shelf, but her hand missed the handle. Her knuckles tapped the wall w
Romy POV By the fourth day, the room felt smaller.The fog outside never lifted. It pressed against the windows from morning until night, turning the glass pale and dull.The corners of the bedroom faded into shadow long before sunset, and every hour that passed made the walls seem closer.I lay on my back, staring at the door.Twelve feet.I’d measured it so many times I no longer needed to look. Twelve feet from the bed to freedom.My thumb rubbed against the edge of the blanket, catching on a loose thread. The wool scratched my skin.Somewhere under the covers his scent lingered–cedar smoke, clean soap, and something warmer that seemed impossible to escape.Because he was always here.If he crossed the room, I knew it. If he shifted in the chair near the hearth, I knew it. If he stood by the window, I felt it before I heard it–the bond made sure of that.A plate landed on the cedar chest at the foot of my bed.“You need to eat something, Romy,” he said, his shoulder against the bed
RomyI woke slowly, keeping my eyes shut and my jaw locked tight.Something heavy lay across my legs, pinning me in place. One of my boots was still on, pressing painfully against my toes beneath the blanket.A warm thumb rested at the base of my neck, rough against my tangled hair whenever it moved.Rowan was behind me.His chest rose and fell against my back with every breath, the heat of his bare skin bleeding through the thin fabric between us. He smelled faintly of smoke and rain and whatever hell the Hawthorne ruins had dragged him through.I stayed perfectly still.I moved my fingers first, testing the mattress. Then I slowly dragged my hand toward my waist until I found the button of my trousers, still jammed through the hole with dried mud packed into the fabric.My jacket was gone. I was in a loose undershirt I didn’t recognize, the seam under one arm already coming apart.I kept my breathing even, then I tested the weight behind me again. He was Still asleep.Of course he wa
Rowan pov I was hallucinating.I had to be.Fear had wrapped itself so tightly around my chest that maybe my mind had finally broken.Because the last thing I remembered was dropping beside her in the mud.The last thing I remembered was holding her.I remembered dropping beside her. Remembered pulling her against me.Remembered begging her to wake up.I didn’t remember letting her go.I didn’t remember the darkness that followedBut when I looked up, Liam Mercer was ankle-deep in the rain with Romy in his arms.Her head rested against his shoulder. Red hair clung to the dark wool of his coat. Her arms were limp, fingers streaked with dirt. Mud dripped from her boots.He went completely silent. Terribly silent.“Liam.” My voice barely sounded human.The boy only adjusted his hold on her, lifting her higher.Rain had washed the dirt from his face. For a second, I saw the same boy I’d seen outside the villa. Young. Stubborn. Looking at her with that same awful certainty.As if he belie
Romy povThe ground under my cheek wasn’t tile.For one stupid second, my mind reached for the villa anyway–for the cold marble floors, the echoing halls, the polished prison I had learned to hate with every breath I took inside it.But this wasn’t marble.This time it was wet, broken, root-tangled earth pressed hard against the side of my face. Mud had found its way into my mouth. Something sharp scraped my lower lip when I tried to breathe. The air smelled of rot, rain, and old iron, thick enough to choke on.Above me, the remains of a stone arch leaned against the storm as if it had been trying not to fall for a hundred years and was finally tired. Mist crawled under it in pale strips, clinging to the mossy stones, sliding over my hands, my boots, my ruined clothes.I tried to lift my head, but the pain exploded in me.It came from my shoulder, then my chest, then everywhere at once. A slow, ugly burn spread under my skin, deep enough that it no longer felt like a wound. It felt l
Romy’s POVAt six o’clock that morning, the guards were changing shifts, and I’d been watching the four-minute gap between rotations at the east gate for two days.I left through it in the rain.The rain had started around five. My boots were already sinking two inches into the ground before I was through the perimeter By the time I cleared the tree line, water had soaked through to my shoulders. My chest ached with each breath, a dull, deep pull that had nothing to do with the cold. I kept walking anyway. If I stopped, I wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way. I had known for thirteen years what day this was. I’d marked it every year–in the Waxmans’ spare room with the door shut, in training facilities and airport lounges, in a hotel bathroom in Oslo with the shower running so no one outside would hear. I had never had a place worth visiting, and I had never been close enough. But now, I was close enough.The Hawthorne property sat forty minutes from the eastern boundary–dow
Romy POVThe second physician arrived Friday afternoon and confirmed everything Dr. Evander had already told us, right down to the tone of cautious optimism that irritated me on instinct.By Saturday I was in a terrible mood about it, and by Sunday I had spent most of the day trying to figure out h
Romy POVThe phone belonged to one of the kitchen girls.Not Petra–Petra I liked, and I wasn't going to burn her. It was the one who left her jacket on the south terrace twice a week and spent her break leaning against the service wall scrolling through something that wasn't estate business. I'd b
Rowan POVI heard Valerie before I stepped onto the south terrace.Not shouting.Valerie rarely raised her voice. Even angry, she preferred quiet over chaos. But lately, the control she wore so carefully had started slipping in small ways. Sharper answers at dinner. Too many late-night visits outsi
13 years ago.Romy’s POV“Heavens, Romy! You either pick that doll up or I swear, I'll rip its head off its poorly invested neck!” My mother screamed, filled with a fury I had come accustomed to over the years.I flinched, and the doll slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. One







