Angol
Octavia Marrow knows what it is to be ruined.
Marked by her mother's overdose and the brutal ghosts of her childhood, she has spent years trying to become the kind of girl worth keeping. The Marrows gave her a home, a name, and the promise of something close to normal. All Octavia has to do is be grateful enough, quiet enough, good enough not to lose it.
That is until Silas Corvin is brought into her home, and everything begins to unravel.
The son of her father's ex-Army friend, Silas comes from a troubled home, carrying his damage like a weapon. Angry, reckless, and impossible to ignore, he is forced into the role of her adoptive brother, a line neither of them should want to cross. He is supposed to be temporary. A complication. A boy she survives.
Instead, he becomes the one thing she cannot resist.
What begins as tension quickly turns into something darker. Every glance lingers. Every touch feels wrong in a way that makes her want more. And the closer they get, the more Octavia realizes Silas does not recoil from the broken parts of her, he is drawn to them. In his hands, her damage does not feel like something to hide. It feels like something he understands.
But some desires do not come without a cost.
As secrets begin to rot through the walls of the Marrow house, what festers between Octavia and Silas grows harder to deny and even harder to survive. Because this is not the kind of love that heals. It is the kind that consumes. The kind born from pain, fed by obsession, destined to leave wreckage in its wake.
Some broken things do not beg to be saved. They ache to be claimed by something just as shattered.
