Nine years ago, I fell on the world’s biggest stage. A demon lord watched. He’s been waiting for me ever since. I haven’t laced my own skates since my humiliating mistake.
I coach four-year-olds at a strip-mall rink and tell myself the girl who fell isn’t coming back. Then I step through the rink glass into a citadel of marble and gold. Pride.
Third son of the Demon King. The one the Veil chose for me. Carved in cream and gold, with a body so good it makes Infernum seem like paradise. He says I’m his opposite.
That I earned the magnificence he was given—and lost it the night my blade caught the wrong edge. He says he wants to put it back. He calls me precious one. He kneels to lace my skates.
He won’t touch me until I sign a contract—one that binds me to him to pleasure and discipline. And when he calls himself Daddy? The girl who fell wakes up.
