Chapter 1
To settle his gambling debts, my father sold me–blessed as I was with rare fertility–to a brothel.
I had nowhere to run. And yet, it was the one man who hated me most–Lord Alaric Thorne, the powerful regent–who paid a single coin to claim me and locked me away in his private manor.
That night, he was merciless.
When I woke the next morning with the ache of violation and the seed of life stirring within me, I dared to ask him for a title, for even a shred of dignity.
He looked at me with a cold, amused sneer. “You? A bastard daughter, reaching for the place of a lawful wife?”
“You’re nothing more than my plaything. And you’ll never leave this estate for as long as you live.”
He kept me locked in the back wing of his estate for six long years. I conceived nine times.
Each time, he forced himself on me again, using my body as a vessel for his vengeance.
Until the tenth time–when I was heavy with child again–he cradled his widowed sister–in–law in his arms and watched, unmoved, as the servants dragged me across the floor and beat me.
Afterward, I clutched the lifeless child in my arms, weeping, begging him to spare me–just this once.
But he only laughed and tore the bloodstained gown from my body, shoving me down like a beast beneath him. His voice dripped with cruelty.
“What? Ten times and you’re breaking already? You think this repays what you owe me?”
What he didn’t know was that this time–I truly planned to leave.
That same night, after he lulled Lady Celeste Hawthorn to sleep with soft whispers and empty comfort…
I was still kneeling in the chapel, punished for two days and nights without food or water.
He stormed in, gripped my chin in his iron hand, and stared down at me with eyes like frost.
“Seraphina,” he hissed, “how many punishments will it take before you finally learn?”
“You dared show Celeste disrespect?”
He shoved me hard.
My back slammed against the altar. Pain exploded through my ribs, and blood rushed up my throat and spilled from my lips.
My dress lay in tatters around me, stained in red. My knees were raw, the skin torn and bleeding.
Still, trembling and broken, I forced myself upright and knelt again, lowering my swollen forehead to the stone floor.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “It was all my fault.”
Alaric’s throat bobbed. For a moment, his fingers twitched as though he meant to pull me into his arms.
But then he caught himself–grabbing my face instead with brutal force.
“Don’t play your little games, Seraphina. You think if you act pitiful, I’ll feel sorry for you?”
He yanked me to my feet with a cruel laugh. “You’re just hoping I’ll look at you again.
Tears and blood blurred my vision.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I whispered, lowering my head. My lips curled bitterly. “She’s your precious Celeste. If anything happens to her, it’s
because I failed her.”
Chapter 1
BookSnap
11.11%
Everyone adored Celeste Hawthorn. She was the golden widow.
So when she moved into the estate…
Her missing hairpin? My fault–clearly scheming.
Her illness from falling into the lake? Jealousy, they said–I must’ve pushed her.
Even the fainting spell she had today? Of course–it must’ve been a curse from me.
Alaric’s gaze dropped to my belly, where a subtle swell had begun to show. His face darkened.
“You’re pregnant again?” he growled, seizing my throat.
Before I could even answer, he shouted toward the door, “Bring her the abortive tonic. Now.”
Two hulking matrons stormed in and forced me onto the cold woven mat.
“No!” I screamed, arms wrapped protectively around my belly. “Alaric, this is your child too! Please–please, I’m begging you!”
His eyes flickered.
But he still took the bowl of pitch–black liquid and forced it down my throat.
The bitter brew burned as it went down, and agony erupted deep in my womb.
And while my body convulsed, he shredded what was left of my clothing and crushed me to him, a fever of hatred in his eyes.
His voice was low, raw, vindictive. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Let me show you what real suffering feels like.”
My blood soaked the mat beneath us, and in the next breath, I saw it–the red in his eyes. Fury. Grief. Something breaking.
The pain nearly tore me apart. Through swollen, dazed eyes, I could barely make out his twisted, frenzied face.
“No child of yours will survive this house while Celeste carries mine. You understand? This wretched body of yours will never be anything more than a toy.
And just before the darkness took me, I thought I saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. A sliver of sorrow.
But no.
That man—whatever tenderness he might’ve once had for me–was long gone.
Now all that remained was hate.
Three days.
That’s all that stood between me and freedom.
Chapter 1
