I never asked for a claim, not after watching my parents disappear and leave nothing but silence behind. The court demands Robert Jagger bite me before the Solstice or the rival will drag me into his own bond, and the thought of either future leaves my hands trembling.

He pulls me from the grand hall into the sealed chambers, and I never refuse. The court watches the doors close behind us and calls it necessary. Every time his mouth lowers toward my pale throat I feel the yielding start, the hunger for his repeated bites and the eternal bond they would create. I fear he will claim me and then turn away, as everyone else has. The Solstice is close.