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