Where the gods forget

In the kingdom of Aeloria, magic is a crime punishable by death. Séraphine Vaël knows this better than anyone. At twenty-two, she hides her monstrous gift beneath worn leather gloves: the mere touch of her skin against another's reveals the thread of their destiny—and allows her, if she dares, to rewrite it. A power that the Inquisition of the Sun has relentlessly hunted for fifty years. But when the soldiers of the Inquisition burn her village and she finds herself captured by the Guard of Shadows — the secret army of a prince said to have been dead for three centuries — Seraphine understands that her gift never belonged to her. It was a debt. Kael Aranthas is everything she fears: immortal, ruthless, and cursed by the Old Gods who have etched an implacable sentence into his flesh—no one will ever be able to love him. Not willingly, not by force. The curse is slowly consuming him, erasing what remains of his humanity. He offers her a deal: use her gift to find the only relic capable of breaking her curse. In exchange, he will help her avenge her village. A pact between enemies. An alliance of desperation. What neither of them anticipated was that some threads of destiny refuse to be rewritten — even by the hands of those who have the power to do so. And that falling in love with someone condemned never to be so remains the cruellest form of magic.