My half-sister drugged me. The bastard my father brought home. She made me fail the Blood Rite. She took my birthright. She took my husband. She framed me. She drove me to suicide. Now I’m back. Five years earlier. The morning of the Blood Rite. Mira walks in with warm milk and a fake smile. She thinks I don’t know. She thinks I’ll fall again. She’s wrong. This time, I dodge every trap. I let her think she’s winning. Then I strike. I was the fastest to complete the Blood Rite in Moretti history.
