Chase Sterling always felt like furniture. The kind you don't notice, the kind that's easy to shove in a corner and forget. He was used to it: people looked right through him, brushed him off like lint. But it only takes one phone call to erase a lifetime of being overlooked. When his estranged family meets a tragic end, Chase suddenly finds himself in charge of the sprawling Sterling fortune. Turns out, riches aren't the only thing the family left him. There's a curse running through his blood, warping love into something hungry and dangerous, impossible to escape.

Vivian Ashford never set out to blow Chase's life to smithereens. Just one decision (a sharp, ruthless move at graduation) was all it took to set their worlds spinning out of control. While Vivian soaks up the Hollywood limelight and collects red-carpet headlines, Chase slips into his new role as Manhattan's most intimidating heir. But no matter how far they run, something keeps yanking them back together, like a stitch in an old wound that refuses to heal.

I wake to burning. Not metaphorical. Literal fire sensation centered in my chest, spreading outward like something branded my skin from the inside. I stumble to the bathroom, rip off my shirt, look in the mirror.


There's a mark. Burned into my skin over my heart, black against pale flesh, symbol I don't recognize but that radiates wrongness the way Helena's binding tonic did. It's circular, intricate, looks like combination of sigil and warning and price I didn't know I was paying.


I touch it. The skin is hot, slightly raised, permanent. This isn't temporary tattoo. This is magical scarring, proof that Helena's binding did more than just strip my access to supernatural practice.


This is ownership mark. Helena Sterling's signature on my soul, claiming me as payment or collateral or something worse than either.


The mark pulses once. Painful reminder that I'm bound now in ways I didn't fully consent to, ways that go beyond the contract I signed last night.


Chapter 122 - The Price