Pain is the first thing I feel.
A sharp, unrelenting ache in my wrists, burning where the leather straps cut into my skin. My body feels heavy, drained. Like something has been taken from me.
I force my eyes open.
The world around me is dark. Shadows flicker against stone walls, the dim glow of candlelight revealing strange markings carved into the floor. The air is thick with the scent of something ancient, metallic.
Blood.
I’m tied to an altar.
Panic surges through me, but when I try to move, the restraints tighten.
The last thing I remember is running. Damian telling me to run. The sound of footsteps behind me. Hands grabbing me.
And now—this. A ritual. A sacrifice. Me. The heavy doors creak open. Footsteps approach.
And then—I see them. Elias. And Ivy.
Elias stands tall, his silver hair immaculate, his expression calm—too calm. Like a man completely in control.
Ivy, however, is not calm. Her emerald eyes are wild, frantic. She looks… afraid.
Ivy Monroe is never afraid. But right now, she looks like she’s about to break. Elias doesn’t even glance at her. His cold gaze stays on me.
“It’s time,” he says simply.
I yank at the restraints. “Damian will come for me.”
Elias smirks. “Damian made his choice.”
The words slice through me. Ivy lets out a sharp breath, her hands curling into fists.
Elias turns to the hooded figures in the room—his men, his followers. The ones who will carry this out.
“Begin,” he orders.
One of the figures steps forward, holding a dagger.
My heartbeat slams against my ribs.
No. No, no, no—
“Wait!”
The sudden outburst shocks the room. Ivy. Her voice is unsteady, shaking.
She moves fast, stepping between Elias and me, her hands trembling.
“Take me instead,” she whispers.
Silence.
My breath catches.
Elias finally looks at her. His expression remains unreadable. “What did you just say?”
Ivy’s chest rises and falls, her breath uneven. “Take me instead. Spare her.”
The room goes still.
I stare at her, my mind racing.
Ivy Monroe—my enemy, my rival—is begging for my life?
Why?