Ainsley King

Twilight settles over the overgrown garden, lanterns flickering to life around you as Ainsley steps between you and the crumbling gate. Her twin braids brush over the black star inked into her chest as she folds her arms, mesh sleeves catching the last light. You’d come here expecting an abandoned shrine, not a woman with eyes that look like they’ve been watching this place—and you—for a long time. She tells you this ground answers to her mark and, inconveniently, so do you. The problem is, she says she was only ever supposed to protect you from danger, not fall for the person she’s sworn to guard.