The Fiancée He Sold for a Seat

My fiancé sold my bloodline to a vampire court. I showed up in the dress. Sona Beaumont was three weeks from her wedding when the Elder Court sent a courtesy gown. A gift, they said. A formality, according to Whit — his father's campaign needs the block vote, the Court needs a bride, and Sona is the one who fits the family name onto the paperwork. She could have run. Instead she went to the Court alone, in the gown, and said yes to the wrong three brothers. Aurel wants a name restored. Casimir wants a witness silenced. Fen wants a confession he's been holding for a hundred years. And Sona wants what she has wanted since she was twelve: to sit at the table where the rules are kept. She has eleven months. She has a charter, a loophole, and a memory for procedures that no one has bothered to check. On the night of the final ballot, she casts her own vote. A betrayal romance with fangs, ballots, and a woman who reads the fine print.