The Tyrant's Terminally Ill Childhood Friend

He was my only childhood friend and I was his first love, but our story was doomed: I was terminally ill and fated to die at fifteen. A decade later, I have somehow survived—only to be discarded as a one-night toy for a tyrant whose face is hauntingly familiar. Surrounded by the spring flowers he once wished for my grave, the boy who never forgot his dead first love now calls me Rowen. The cruelest twist is that while he spent ten years mourning me, I returned with every intention of killing him.