Viscount of Winter

She keeps records of everything. Every frost-pattern on the glass. Every gap in his voice. Every day she has loved a dying fae prince who will not say her name unless there's three feet of cold air between them.

Isabella Calder has spent three years cataloguing the slow death of Ash Winterhollow — the quietest of the Nocturne brothers, the one who remembers everything, the one whose power writes her name on every window he owns and scrapes it clean before dawn. She's immune to his glamour. She cannot be made to forget herself. And she has a plan to save him that requires one thing he refuses to give her: a wedding.

Ash is fading. The stones that anchored his kind are dead. The oaths that kept fae honest are dissolving inside him. And the woman with the ledger — the one whose heartbeat he can hear through walls, the one his frost follows like it's chosen a new master — wants to bind herself to a power that could crush the one mind on earth that never forgets.

He would rather die than build her that prison.

She would rather build the prison than attend his funeral.

Some records were never meant to survive a wedding night.