This is happening.

My ladies can’t protect me from it.

My uncle refuses to stop it.

And the only two people who would have done anything to ensure my happiness—even if it meant moving the stars and planets—died six years ago.

As the maid ushers us into my prison for the next twelve months and beyond, I have no choice but to let destiny drag me into the den.

2

For a prison, the Zodiac Estate is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The grand foyer is open, light, and airy, and smack in the middle stands a white stone staircase. To my right, a waterfall cascades down a rocky wall.

“Wow,” Elise breathes, and I can’t help but share in her awe.

I tilt my head and squint from the bright rays pouring through the circular skylight which spans the foyer and second-floor atrium. The stained glass is sectioned into twelve slices—one representing each sign of the zodiac, from the ram to the fishes. It’s beautiful and immaculate and…

“It’s cold,” Faye says, plucking the word from my mind.

Gooseflesh erupts on my skin, and I’m not sure if it’s from the chilly breeze spilling into the foyer with our arrival, or the thought of what waits for me behind closed doors. Just past the wall of bubbling water, I spot an archway leading into what looks like an industrial-sized kitchen. The maid ushers us in the opposite direction, through a door on the left and down a long hallway, and we enter a library. My eyes widen at the sheer massiveness of the bookshelves—rows upon rows of spines showing a varied and eclectic collection.

A man rises from behind a desk, the wood heavy and dark with an edge of masculinity, and Uncle Rowan steps forward. “Chancellor, I’m honored to present my niece, Novalee Van Buren.”

The chancellor nods at me in greeting. “Welcome to Zodiac Island. You may call me Liam.”

Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I study him from beneath my lashes. His coppery hair niggles at a memory, digging at the layers of time until I recall the younger version of the man standing before me.

At age twelve, I didn’t quite grasp the devastating sexiness of Liam Castle, but now it hits me full-on, and I feel his hot-blooded gaze in every nerve ending.

“Do you remember me, Novalee?”

“I remember you.”

“You’ve grown into a beautiful woman.” His attention heats my skin under the white skirt and sweater Uncle Rowan insisted I wear.

“Thank you.”

He gestures toward his maid. “Selma, escort the queen’s ladies to their quarters to freshen up. Dinner begins at six.”

I cast an anxious glance at Faye and Elise. I want them at my side, a buffer between this imposing man and me. “I’d rather they stay.”