Marcus POV
Rose Hawthorn. Eve Nightshade. My second-chance mate.
The irony of the universe never ceased to amaze me. Out of all the women in all the centuries I had walked this earth, fate had tied my soul to hers—the last remaining descendant of the very bloodline that had taken everything from me.
Her ancestors—the Nightshades—had butchered my people. My mother. My father. My mate, Maria. They had not just spilled blood; they had stripped our kind of dignity. Their betrayal had ended the era of royal vampires, shattering the thrones and crowns that had once ruled the night. They turned what was once an empire into a council of weaklings who begged witches and humans for favor. Even the newborns, even the babes in their cradles—none were spared by her cursed lineage.
And now fate, in all its cruel humor, had decided that my redemption, my salvation, would come wrapped in the skin and soul of a Nightshade.
It was almost laughable.
Almost.
