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Cursed by your love

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dark
reincarnation/transmigration
fated
curse
dominant
heir/heiress
drama
tragedy
bxg
loser
magical world
another world
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Blurb

Fifteen generations ago, a blood pact was sealed between two powerful families. The terms were simple: the firstborn son of the Sterling-Windsor bloodline must marry a woman of the Hart-Ashford family before his thirty-fifth birthday. If he fails, he dies.Now, Seraphina Hart-Ashford is the fifteenth bride. She married a man who despises her- a man who blames her family for his mother's murder. She loved him once, in a childhood that feels like a distant dream. But that boy is gone. In his place stands a stranger wearing his face.Alexander Sterling-Windsor has spent twenty years hating the Hart-Ashfords. He married Seraphina to survive the curse. Nothing more.But the curse is not the only danger lurking within Blackwood Castle.Someone wants Alexander dead. A poison was meant for him, but Seraphina drank it instead. Now she is dying slowly. Then the killings began. The same person who placed the poison is the same person now taking lives. But who are they? And why?And then there are the premonitions. Visions that come to Seraphina in the dead of night. Whispers of a past life. A feeling that she has done this before, that history is repeating itself, and she is destined to make the same tragic choice.She will soon encounter something that will change everything. A truth hidden for centuries. A destiny she never chose. And a power that has always been within her- a power that makes her the only one who can break the curse.But breaking the curse will not come the way anyone expects.The question is not whether Seraphina will survive. The question is whether she will be the one to save this family or the one who destroys them.Who is the killer?What is the secret of the curse?And why does Seraphina feel like she has been here before?In Blackwood Castle, nothing is as it appears.

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The oath
Prologue Year of our lord, 1526 The wind off the North Sea didn’t just howl, it screamed against the stones of Blackwood Castle, while below the waves slammed into the cliffs, wild and angry, just like the storm raging inside these walls. On the highest tower, the stars were gone, swallowed by thick fog. Lord Silas Sterling-Windsor knelt before a basin of black water, inky and still as death. His hands shook, not from the cold, but from the weight of what he was about to do. Beside him stood the Duke of Ashford, his face empty, caught between grief and ambition. The blood deal was signed, the ink still wet on a promise that would chain their families for fifteen generations. And downstairs, in the silent gallery, the price was already being paid. The Duke stared at his own hands. Ink stained his fingers from a contract that shouldn’t exist, and hands that had never shaken before couldn’t hold still now. “You understand?” Silas whispered, his voice cracking. “My son marries your daughter for fifteen generations. Our wealth will grow, our power will stretch across oceans, but the price is blood. Our blood.” “And if they don’t?” The Duke’s voice was hollow. Silas didn’t look away from the water. “Then the Sterling-Windsor name dies, buried. And the Hart-Ashford name is wiped from history. We’re building an empire on graves, Ashford. Don’t forget that.” A drop of blood fell from the Duke’s finger and hit the black surface. The water shook, then lit up, and inside it, a silver locket glowed faintly, hanging around the neck of a woman who wasn’t even born yet. “She’ll carry it,” the Duke said quietly. “She’ll either break the curse… or it will break her.” “The fifteenth,” Silas murmured, eyes on the dark horizon. “She has to be stronger than the fourteen before her, because if she fails, there won’t be a sixteenth generation left to mourn us.” Far below, the first bell tolled deep, mournful. It rolled through the halls and woke the ghosts, and the wind carried it out to sea. The curse had been fed.

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