Cillian Lowry—real name classified, god-hater, former juvie kid, current dance instructor, professional liar. He entered my life pretending to be harmless and homeless. What he really was? A walking vendetta intent on destroying my people.
Electra Serran—modern-day goddess, romance-book devourer, proud moth in a world of butterflies, skilled avoider of emotional vulnerability. My mission? Make Malachi Hadez—my forever crush—finally take notice of me.
When Cillian suggests we fake-date to make Malachi jealous, I accept. After all, that trope works wonders in books.
The problem? The way Cillian looks at me. The way he touches me. The way he worships me.
The bigger problem? The way I start looking back. The way pretending begins to feel real. The way I open myself to him.
When his mask slips, my desire for his heart becomes a thirst for his blood.
I wished for a love story grand enough to burn the world down.
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