‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Nour Delour doesn't chase men. She manufactures them. Shapes their desire with oils, honey, blood, and flame. In her Harlem candle boutique, every scent has a spell, every wick a whisper of old Southern rootwork passed down from women who knew how to make love feel like a fever. So when Rajah Thomas━the ex who ghosted her, walks by her shop window with his new girl on his arm, Nour doesn't cry. She gets even. She carves his name into wax, mixes it with her own essence, then lights the candle her grandmother warned her never to use: the 𝗪𝗮𝘅 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁. It doesn't just draw Rajah back━it 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘴 him. And this time, he returns with wet eyes, trembling hands, and a craving he can't explain. He's starving for her aroma, her skin, her darkness. He says her name like a prayer. Cries when she lets him taste her. Tells her he'll never leave again. But obsession has a cost, and magic always demands balance. As the flame burns lower, Rajah unravels. He starts sleeping outside her door. Sobbing when she doesn't answer. Losing jobs, friends, time. As for Nour? She's not untouched. She's sweating through her sheets. Moaning his name in her sleep. Bleeding from places that shouldn't bleed. The spell has tethered them by more than lust━it's welded their souls into something unnatural, and if she tries to break it, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩. Still, there's a part of her━the part that wanted this━that isn't ready to let go. Because this love? It's not soft. It's not safe. It's 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆. 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄. @GLOSSNEILES ON THE COVER ART.

She rules the city with her mouth stained red and her hands clean of mercy. Seraphine rouge isn't a legend, but a law. An immortal vampire queen who feeds in velvet-lined rooms, seals contracts in blood, and decides who lives long enough to beg. Nightclubs are her altars. Red envelopes are her verdicts. If you receive one, your fate has already been chosen. She does not give her body without taking something in return. But there was always someone who disobeyed. Kingston Blackwell, a human kingpin with a drug empire, dirty money, and a hunger that rattles her more than the smell of blood. Kingston is violent, obsessive, and dangerously unafraid. Their connection is toxic and consuming; he wants to own her, and she wants to ruin him. And then there is Lucian Fox. The enemy's son. The forbidden love. His desire for her is quieter, deadlier, and written in prophecy sealed in blood magic rituals that feel far too intimate. Loving him could start a war, and his touch could end the world. As witches betray, demons collect their debts, bodies pile up, and the city begins to bleed. Seraphine is forced to confront the one thing no crown can protect them from. Because power is intoxicating, love is weakness, and the queen who lets herself burn, everything she rules with her. This is not a love story. This is a story about obsession, dominance, and the cost of sitting on a throne soaked in blood.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝗧𝗢𝗫𝗜𝗖, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐."

Kiss me.

𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙞 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩. 𝙉𝙤 .. 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡

"I treated them bad I wouldn't be mad if i was to get treated the same way... so treat me the same way."

"𝙄𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙙,𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩?"