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Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  6. Pronunciation Guide
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Part Two
  23. Fourteen
  24. Fifteen
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Part Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Part Four
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. Forty-One
  53. Forty-Two
  54. Forty-Three
  55. Forty-Four
  56. Forty-Five
  57. Forty-Six
  58. Forty-Seven
  59. Epilogue
  60. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  61. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. About the Author
  64. Back Cover

Then there were the horrors that went on within the Selkie. Nox was too sick to move, and Millicent knew of only one way to heal the young woman. She turned away from the horror as she sent the intoxicated patron to Nox’s room, closing her eyes as the man shut the door behind him.

Thirty-Eight

Recovery and healing were not one and the same.

Though Nox’s strength returned, she remained fractured with anger, betrayal, and revulsion. Her legs worked once more. She could sit, and speak, and eat. Though feeling better, she was anything but fine.

For years, a cocktail of emotions had wrapped themselves around her abilities—whether gift or curse, who was to say. Nox had struggled to separate the disgust of self-loathing from the rage born of justice as she brought the judge’s gavel down on any man who deigned to enter her bed. Perhaps her soul was cursed, but if she was to go to hell, she’d drag every wretched, indulgent male soul who took from women with her.

The quiet, white-hot anger smoldered within her as she considered that the Madame was something else entirely. No longer could she expend emotional energy on herself, on men, or on the Selkie. She had no room for anything save for her hatred of the Madame.

Millicent had fussed over Nox for three solid days after she had risen from her nearly paralytic state, fetching her any wild thing the woman suspected she might want. Nox, who had made a remarkable recovery from death’s door, did not leave her rooms. Chocolates and a ginger-colored puppy with curled fur and paintings of the landscapes near Farleigh and friends from the salon were all sent up to her, all turned away—all except for a single, dusted truffle, though one piece of candy would hardly be missed. Millicent sent jewels and dresses and the doting compliments of would-be suitors, should Nox have wanted either their companionship or their life force.

Emily had not come to see her, nor had anyone at the Selkie heard from the freckled girl since the day Nox had ridden for Yelagin. Emily’s face had been the only one she’d hoped to see. Perhaps now that she knew Amaris was riding for the south, it had been divine intervention that the young woman who’d warmed her bed would choose such a time to run. Maybe it would save her from a deeply unpleasant conversation.