Happily-ever-afters don't come for the wicked...
I was the one stupid enough to hope for a happily ever after.
It was my fault she was gone. It was my fault for being dumb and being hopeful and being in love. I knew better, and I didn't listen to my own warning bells.
I'd been too deafened by Dominic Reed's love, and now others were paying the price.
People I loved were in danger—my life was in danger—and we still didn't know why. We still didn't know who was doing this or what they wanted.
Other than me.
Me. A nobody. A girl broken from the inside out. A girl with a lightning temper and death-wish determination.
It was that determination that took me one step too far. I flung myself off the edge, depending one last time on hope to help me fly, and instead, I crashed hard into a nightmare world nothing in my twenty-one years could have prepared me for.
Not the horrors. Not the twisted family ties. Certainly not the bad boy with the heart of poems.
My death-wish determination had taken me to the very edge of hell, and the devil just might be the person I least expected.
