Chapter 1

My blood is special.

It heals.

This isn't magic, not like in storybooks. It's a secret, a heavy one, passed down through the Vance family for generations. We live quietly in New England, practicing our old folk healing, mostly forgotten by the world.

This blood, my unique inheritance, was the reason I died in my first life.

It healed Ethan Davenport Jr., the son of a rich Boston family. He was paralyzed.

Because of an old pact between our families, a promise sworn generations ago that whoever healed him would be his spouse, I was forced to marry him.

Ethan never wanted me.

He loved Veronica Sterling, a socialite, beautiful and cruel. He treated me with pure contempt.

Veronica, always scheming, faked a terrible accident. She claimed she was looking for a rare Amazonian orchid to cure Ethan. A lie.

Then she pretended to be dying.

Ethan, completely fooled by her act, believed only my blood could save Veronica. He forced me.

I gave my blood, again and again, until there was nothing left.

I died from exsanguination.

Later, I learned Veronica' s "accident" was a complete setup. She was never in real danger. It was all a plan to get rid of me, to secure her place with Ethan. She had her own shady business, dangerous connections that had put her in some trouble, but she twisted it to her advantage.

Then, I woke up.

Sunlight streamed through a window. I knew this room. The Davenport mansion.

It was the day they first called me, the day I was supposed to assess Ethan' s paralysis. My second chance.

I walked into Ethan' s grand bedroom. He sat in a wheelchair, a sullen, arrogant look on his face.

Mrs. Abigail Davenport, his mother, watched me with desperate eyes.

I looked at Ethan, then at his mother.

"His condition is permanent," I said, my voice cool, steady.

"Untreatable by any known means, conventional or otherwise."

Mrs. Davenport gasped.

Ethan' s face darkened.

I added, looking at Mrs. Davenport, "Perhaps you should focus on your other heirs, if you have any."

"You insolent quack!" Ethan roared.

He grabbed a priceless antique clock from a nearby table and hurled it at me.

I sidestepped it easily. It shattered against the wall.

"Such a temper," I remarked, looking at the broken pieces, then back at him. "The psychological toll of helplessness can be quite severe, can't it?"

Mrs. Davenport rushed after me as I turned to leave.

"Miss Vance, please! Anything! We' ll give you anything!" Her voice was thick with tears.

I stopped at the doorway.

"Mrs. Davenport," I said, my voice firm, "some things are beyond even my family's legendary capabilities. Your son will not walk again."

From inside the room, Ethan yelled, his voice filled with a strange, delusional confidence.

"I don't need her! Veronica is already on her way to South America! She' s finding the Sunpetal Orchid! It will cure me!"

I almost smiled. The Sunpetal Orchid. Another of Veronica' s fantasies.

As I walked down the long driveway of the Davenport estate, a car pulled up beside me.

A woman I didn' t recognize from this life, her face etched with worry, got out.

"Miss Vance?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I'm Sarah McKenna. My son, Liam... he was in the same yachting accident as Ethan Davenport. He' s in a coma."

She clutched my arm, her eyes pleading.

"They say you have... a gift. Please, I heard whispers. Please, can you help my son?"

My heart clenched. Liam McKenna. In my past life, I barely registered his name. Another victim.

The thought of using my blood again, after what it cost me, made me sick.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McKenna," I said softly. "I can't help him."