Chapter 1

"Come on, Charlotte!" Lexi laughed, tugging me toward the door. "This is the biggest gala of the year."

"You are not spending your twenty-third birthday hiding in your apartment just because you're afraid you'll blow a fuse."

She gave the midnight-blue silk gown she had practically forced me into one final tug and smiled in satisfaction.

I bit my lip, checking my reflection. I looked normal, but I didn't feel it.

I could feel the familiar heat humming beneath my skin—my permanent, lifelong "fever" of 104°F.

To the medical world, I was an unsolved mystery.

I never had a mother or a father. The orphanage was the only home I'd ever known.

I spent my childhood dragged from one clinic to another, enduring countless puzzled looks.

In high school, the kids called me a freak.

No one wanted to hold my hand because my skin felt like a radiator.

If I got angry or scared, the lightbulbs in the classroom would violently buzz and pop.

I learned early on to keep my distance, to stay invisible.

And to never let anyone get close enough to feel the fire trapped inside me.

I thought that was the end of it.

One day, Sister Margaret drove me far outside the city to visit an old woman who lived alone in a tiny cottage hidden in the woods.

The old woman barely looked at me before taking my hands.

Her eyes widened.

"The girl isn't cursed," she whispered.

"She's waiting."

I never understood what she meant.

Neither did Sister Margaret.

We never went back.

A few months later, the old woman's cottage stood empty.

No one in the nearby town seemed to know where she had gone.

Sometimes I wondered if I'd imagined the whole thing.

Years later, Lexi was the only one who had ever looked past the glitches.

When we became roommates in the city, she didn’t run away the first time the microwave literally exploded.

Because I was having a nightmare.

But she just bought a conventional oven and told me we’d adapt.

The elevator glided up the sleek skyscraper.

"If I get too stressed, the building's lights might literally black out." I whispered.

"You won't panic," Lexi teased.

But the moment I stepped into the grand ballroom, my inner temperature skyrocketed.

Something primal was calling to me from the center of the penthouse.

It was a deep vibration shaking the very air.

Dizzy, I backed away from the crowd, trying to reach the terrace.

I was trembling so hard that I didn't see the towering figure stepping out of the private corridor.

I crashed straight into a solid chest.

Crack.

The crystal glass in his hand shattered on the marble, dark liquor pooling across his expensive suit.

"I am so sorry!" I gasped, reflexively reaching out to brush his lapel.

The moment my skin met his chest, a blinding spark of fire arced between us.

The overhead chandelier violently flickered.

I gasped, looking up into a pair of piercing, molten-gold eyes behind a silver mask.

He radiated an oppressive, breathtaking power that made the entire room feel insignificant.

It was Drake Kingsley.

He was the youngest trillionaire in America.

He froze, his nostrils flaring sharply as he scented the air.

He didn't look at his ruined suit. He looked directly at my heart.

Deep within his chest, a dormant, frozen chamber violently shattered.

For the first time in his life, his Soul Flame had roared to life.

"Who are you?" Drake demanded, his gravelly voice sending a shockwave straight down my spine.

I couldn't answer.

My heart was pounding in perfect, terrifying synchronization with his.

The heat inside me was no longer a defect—it felt like a homecoming.