per of old magic in our blood. They said we could make the barren fruitful, bring color back
luded holler. Her son, Ethan, heir to Montgomery Industries, was dying. Doctors gave
my "gift." I was to be his wife, his salvation. And for a while, it seemed the stories were true. I
d over me. He told me he loved Chloe Vanderbilt, a socialite whose life was supposedly ruined because he' d
curse, mountain
d Montgomery ancestor. To cover his tracks, Montgomery Industries orchestrated an "accident," a chemical spill
y family' s small cabin. The scent of woodsmoke and pine filled my lungs. It was today. Th
here would b
, all tailored lines and icy demeanor, stepped out, I was read
"I appreciate your visit, but there' s been a misunderstan
e. "My dear, the stories are quite speci
after Eleanor left, clearly displeased but witho
ooking pale and gaunt as I remembered him before my... before. But his eyes burned with a feveris
an. "Stay away from me. Stay away from Chloe. If you or you
re talking about, Mr. Montgomery. And I already told your mot
his own a mixture of
e snarled, releasing me an
e way he said "again," I knew this wasn't over. He remembered