Claire Bennett loved Adrian Vale from the time she was fifteen. She never told him. She left London to study. By the time she came home he was married. By the time she came home again he was dead, and she was godmother to a son he never met. Five years later somebody sends her a letter with no name on it. It tells her to find out who cooked his last meal. How do you bring a dead man back when the people who killed him are the ones raising his child?

Every week for eighteen years, my father gave me medicine for a blood condition I don’t have. I never asked what was in it. I was grateful. Nobody else in that house gave me anything. Then my sister refused the alliance mating, and my father put me in her clothes, poured her scent over my skin, handed me nineteen doses, and told his own pack that I had drowned. Now I belong to Alpha Marek Thorne of Ashvale, who has never once smelled me. Who has no idea the woman in his bed is not the woman he sent for. Whose own law says that if he finds out, he has to kill me. I have nineteen doses left. And every time he touches me, it burns through faster.