His Runemarked Bride

Liv Darrow does honest witch-work in a dishonest city. In walks Maerik Thorne, the fae enforcer who owns every other parlor on the block, asking for a runemark that will silence his rival. Liv says no. By dawn the mark is on him, glowing with her name, and it is not the binding he asked for. It is older. It is a marriage. It is very much forever. Fourteen days to break it. One fae sister who cast it. One dead wife with a secret. One covenant that will go to war if they fail. And one hotel room with one bed that Liv is absolutely not thinking about. She is thinking about it.