Aurora Sinclair had been cursed into enchanted sleep for a hundred years, and every legend painted her as a fragile princess trapped in endless dreams.
I was the one meant to wake her: a demon-hunting woman standing in for her prince, sent to break the curse with a single kiss.
The instant our lips met, the world split apart, and I did not raise Aurora from sleep—I woke something else and fell into her nightmare.
Inside that twisting realm of shadow and whispers, she watched me with hungry golden eyes, darkness gathering at her fingertips, no longer a lost girl but a queen and a villain shaped by a century of torment.
She wants retribution, and there is no undoing the kiss that tied me to her, or the pull I feel toward falling with her.
