Siavienne

When Lenore Rowanhart is forced to take her cousin’s place in a political marriage to the infamous Duke Barrowmere, she expects cold silences and a crumbling manor in the middle of a cursed land. She doesn't expect the strange pull she feels toward the land. Or the way the duke watches her as if she were a ghost.

I Became the Duke's Forgotten Bride

Lenore stares at her bloodstained napkin, her brain unable to process what she's seeing. Or it's unwilling to acknowledge what she sees. As if admitting that something's wrong will make it real, but ignorance can't erase the truth.

The metallic tang of blood sits heavy on her tongue, and she's distantly aware of the feeling of it continuing to seep through her lips and drip down her chin. Her throat and chest are burning. She wants to claw at her skin as if that would help, but she can't move.

Alaric turns her face so she's looking at him, his touch gentle and almost hesitant. He looks like he's saying something, but Lenore's vision blurs and her mind feels too far away to think about anything other than the pain. The way her organs feel like they're twisting inside her.

Another cough wracks her body, and when she looks down at herself, she sees patches of blood on the front of her dress, more than she recalls coughing up.

Chaos at the Banquet