The Devil's Broken Doll

Adelaide should have died on Selection Night. Instead, the Devil carried her across the veil—bleeding, furious, and burning with magic she shouldn’t possess. They're bonded, like it or not. Her power destabilises his realm. Their desire threatens to consume them both. As Hell twists and reshapes itself around her presence, one truth becomes impossible to ignore: Adelaide isn’t just his chosen. She’s the spark that could remake the underworld… or rule it. If she survives him long enough to claim the crown. ****Excerpt**** Adelaide hung suspended in the Devil’s ropes—breathless, trembling, every inch of her alive with flame. He circled her like a predator savouring the final moment before the kill. But he wasn’t hunting her. He was devouring the sight. “Look at you,” Apollo murmured, touching a glowing fingertip to the curve of her hip. Her body jolted, heat spiralling through her so sharply her vision blurred. “My Little Flame… you burn so beautifully.” The ropes tightened at his silent command, lifting her chest, arching her spine. Her breath broke. Magic crackled between them, alive and ravenous. He dragged a slow trail of fire up her ribs. She shuddered. “Tell me you feel it,” he whispered against her ear. She hated how fast the answer came. “Yes.” His grip closed around her throat—not harsh, but claiming—and her pulse leapt into his palm as if reaching for him. “You deny me with your mouth,” he said, “but your body kneels.” Heat built—pressure, light, something too big for her ribs. “Apollo—please—” “Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Give in.” She did. Her flame erupted in a blinding burst, racing along the ropes, lighting the chamber in gold. Apollo inhaled sharply, awe and hunger twisting his features. “Good girl,” he breathed, ruined by the sight. “Burn for me.”