Next door stands Rowan Forge, the valley’s most formidable blacksmith, a broad-shouldered, iron-willed man whose very skin seems forged from the metal he hammers. Rowan despises magic; his family was destroyed by a rogue Verdant decades ago. When a clause in the grandmother’s will forces Ivy to commission an impossible ironwork piece from Rowan to secure her inheritance, the two are thrown together.
Their first touch is accidental—and catastrophic. Instead of attacking Rowan as they do every other living soul, Ivy’s murderous vines bloom explosively around him, wrapping gently, luxuriantly, as if starved for his contact. Terrified and furious, Ivy tries to drive him away, but the greenhouse itself begins to wither without Rowan’s periodic presence. Something in his iron blood pacifies her wild magic, and something in her verdant power heals the old wounds scarring his soul.
As an inquisitor arrives to investigate rumors of illegal growth magic, Ivy and Rowan must decide whether to expose their dangerous bond or let the valley burn—literally—at the roots. Between clashing hammer and climbing vine, contempt ignites into consuming desire, proving the oldest truth in Elderglen: iron and ivy are lethal apart, unbreakable together.