Unscramble Throat

Stephanie’s life had always been predictable... until she caught her fiancé cheating just weeks before their wedding. Heartbroken and humiliated, she fled in tears, only to end up in a life-threatening accident. When she woke in the hospital, she discovered she wasn’t the only victim. Lying unconscious in the next bed was a mysterious, injured man with no memory of who he was. Despite his amnesia and seemingly penniless state, the stranger, Nathan, became an unexpected part of her life. With nowhere to go, he found refuge under her roof, offering quiet strength when she needed it most. But beneath his lost identity was a man of immense power—one who had been secretly orchestrating her success from the shadows while hiding his growing feelings for her. Just as Stephanie began rebuilding her life, Nathan's past resurfaced, compelling her to face a shocking revelation about their connection. As she realized Nathan might be the one who truly belonged in her heart, hidden secrets threatened their relationship. ******* Nathan's voice was a whisper against the silence that stretched between them, "I've been hiding this for a long time now, just to be near you." His eyes pleaded as he stepped forward, taking her hands in his. "Stephanie Moore, will you be mine?" Stephanie's breath caught in her throat as she stared at Nathan. "You..." Her lips parted, but no words came out. A moment passed before a smile, as bright as the summer sun broke across her face. "You fool! What took you so long?" ******* Can their bond stand the test of time or will they crumble under the weight of secrets that threatens to tear them apart? Join me as we dive into a twisted tale of romance, betrayal, passion, deception, and power.

“You’ve been researching for years with nothing to show for it. Why not try something else?” Samia’s tone was sharp, but there was a thread of concern beneath it as she leaned against the doorframe. The room smelled faintly of sterilizing agents, and the rhythmic clicking of keys filled the silence. Dr. Elias didn’t respond immediately. Dressed in his lab coat, he stared at the screen with unwavering focus, his fingers flying over the keyboard. When he finally turned to her, a slow, almost unsettling smile spread across his face. For a moment, he looked like any other scientist lost in his work—until he blinked. The motion was unnatural, his eyelids sliding horizontally across his eyes like a lizard’s. “Samia,” he said, his voice calm but electric with excitement, “I’ve figured it out. This time, it will work.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he was already on his feet, moving past her with an urgency that demanded she follow. They made their way through the sterile corridors of the facility, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a cold glow on the walls. The reinforced chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the building. Thick steel doors hissed as they opened, and the hum of machinery grew louder as they stepped inside. In the center of the room stood a massive contraption—a web of wires, tubes, and blinking monitors surrounding a sleek, cylindrical core. “What is it this time?” Samia asked, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Dr. Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he moved with practiced precision, attaching cables and adjusting dials. The air felt heavier here, charged with the anticipation of something monumental—or catastrophic. “Get your goggles,” he said at last, stepping behind the protective glass. He tapped the side of his goggles, the lenses catching the faint blue glow of the machine. Samia hesitated. She had seen him fail before. Years of promises and miscalculations had made her wary, but there was something different in his demeanor this time—something unsettlingly confident. Reluctantly, she turned and jogged back to the lab to retrieve her goggles. The first explosion hit when she was halfway down the hall. The floor bucked beneath her, and she stumbled, her heart leaping into her throat. A deep, resonating boom echoed through the building, followed by a blaring alarm. “Dr. Elias!” she shouted, spinning around. Smoke and dust billowed toward her, and the acrid scent of burning wires filled the air. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, cutting off her path back to the reinforced chamber. And then she saw it. Through the swirling haze, a glowing orb hovered in the wreckage, pulsating with a light that seemed alive. It started small, no bigger than her fist, but it was growing—expanding with an eerie, deliberate rhythm. The hum it emitted was low and bone-deep, vibrating through the air and into her chest. “No, no, no,” she muttered, backing away. Every instinct screamed at her to run. She turned and bolted for the exit, her shoes skidding on the slick floor as she raced against the inevitable. She had barely reached the stairwell when a second explosion ripped through the building. The force of it threw her forward, and she hit the ground hard. Her vision blurred as heat and light engulfed her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the structure groan as it gave way entirely. Then, everything went black.

[Trigger Warning: Mature Content] They say the Silvermoonlight Masquerade changes fates. It did for Lydia Ashford too, but she lost more than she gained. In a world where strength defines worth, she was wolfless, but she refused to be weak. With beauty that shimmered like stardust in the midnight sky and a mind as sharp as a dagger, Lydia was a name spoken with both awe and envy. But admiration was never enough. She forged her own path, honing her combat skills, proving her intelligence, and standing beside Theodore Sinclair, the Alpha’s son, through every challenge. If she could not shift, she would rise in every other way. The Masquerade should have been another step toward securing her future. Yet fate had other plans. One sip of wine. One moment of weakness. One stranger’s touch. And everything she built turned to ash. The man she trusted turned his back on her. The pack that once praised her cast her aside. And the child growing inside her became her only reason to survive. Banished. Forgotten. A name only whispered in shame. Yet, Lydia did not break, she endured. Five years later, she returns—not as the girl they discarded, but as a woman ready to reclaim her life. But fate is not done with her. Because the man who marked her as his? The one who unknowingly fathered her child? He’s standing right in front of her. And this time, he’s not letting her go. ...... The glass hovered near her lips.  "Drink," Nickolas commanded, his voice rough with hunger.  Lydia obeyed, parting her lips as the rich, red liquid flowed onto her tongue. But before she could swallow, his mouth was on hers—hot, demanding, merciless.  The wine spilled between them, sliding over her lips, down her chin. But he didn’t stop. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside, stealing the taste straight from her mouth, devouring every shaky breath she tried to take.  By the time he pulled away, she was trembling.  His fingers tilted the glass. A slow trickle of wine spilled onto her collarbone, rolling between her breasts, gliding down her stomach.  The moment the first drop touched her skin, his mouth followed.  His lips grazed the delicate curve of her neck before he dragged his tongue along the slick trail of wine, chasing every drop as it slipped between her breasts. His teeth scraped her skin, and before she could react, he latched onto her, sucking deep, his tongue flicking and teasing before his mouth sealed around her hardened peak.  Lydia arched beneath him, her hands fisting into the sheets as heat coiled low in her stomach.  "Nickolas," she gasped, her voice breathless, desperate.  He groaned against her skin, his grip tightening on her waist as he sucked harder, the wet heat of his mouth sending pleasure pulsing through her veins. He alternated between sharp, aching nips and long, slow strokes of his tongue, drawing soft moans from her lips. "Messy," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pulled back just enough to watch her squirm beneath him. His fingers traced the path the wine had taken, slow, possessive.  Then his lips brushed lower, over her navel, his breath a sinful caress against her heated skin.  He smirked against her. "I thought your laughter was the most beautiful sound to my ears…" His fingers slid between her thighs, teasing, coaxing, pushing her to the edge without giving her what she needed.  Then, with a slow, deliberate bite against her inner thigh, he whispered, "Until I heard your moans."  A sharp gasp escaped her lips as he kissed her again, his hands gripping her hips, holding her right where he wanted.  "Nickolas," she whimpered.  He chuckled darkly, his lips trailing back up her body, lingering at her throat before he spoke against her ear. "I could get drunk off you."  Lydia swallowed, her body burning, her thoughts unraveling.  But deep down, she already knew—she was the one drowning. 

|| To all the readers who are grieving over Caelestis Lanister’s death. I deeply apologize but this character always deserved death in my eyes of justice. Although he was a good leader, a good friend, probably a good son, yet he was never a good friend or boyfriend to Stella. Even after going through all his sins, if you still sympathize with him. I have an offer for you. Would you like to change the destiny of Caelestis Lanister? Yes/No|| A translucent blue window appeared in front of Eleanore, who had just opened her eyes in a strange white place, after meeting her end in a Traffic accident. Eleanore finds herself in a new world, with a mission to change the destiny of her favorite character from a book she had recently read, "Revenge is her only desire." Tired from her daily struggles, she was ready to venture into a new life of the rich, but to her dismay. She finds herself in the body of the villainess that dies in the first chapter of the novel, who shares the same name as hers, Eleanore Sinclair. Moreover, the day she enters into her body is the day she gets killed by Caelestis for harming his lover, Stella. Eleanore binded by the system that guided her through in her mission of changing Caelestis’ fate, realizes that the system favoured Stella over her. She struggles to keep herself alive, while working on Caelestis and Stella's relationship. As she tries to save Stella from the obsessive grasps of Caelestis, she finds herself getting entangled with the notorious villain. As tension and hatred between them rises, a love blooms between them which gives nothing but pain in return. The male lead being her own brother, will she be able to save Caelestis which is no longer her mission but her love? _______ “Lies!” he spat again, his voice rising. “I will kill you, Eleanore. If you ever try to do that to her again, I will kill you.” His words cut through her, burning with hatred and fear. Anger surged within her as she fought against him. She had never intended to hurt Stella, not once. The blame lay with the original owner of the body, not her. Why must she listen to these accusations? “I have no such intentions!” she shouted at his face, gasping to find breath. “Let me go!” Her foot lashed out, kicking him in the thigh, but he quickly pinned it down as well. Exhausted from her useless struggles, Eleanore realized she had to gather her strength and then perhaps bite off some skin from his handsome face. “You are just an obsessed man,” she snarled. “You don’t know how to treat a woman. You’re killing her!” Before she could finish, Caelestis silenced her with a violent grip around her throat. His hand tightened around her neck, cutting off her breath. Her wrists were free, but now her neck was caught, and every breath became a struggle. Panic surged through her as she struggled to find, her nails digged deep into at his arm in a desperate attempt to free herself. Caelestis’ true nature had finally appeared in front of Eleanore, and it scared her. She had already been afraid of him, but now the fear felt like it was gripping her very soul. Note: This is a dark fantasy romance novel. A war between Love and Obsession.

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?

HEED MY ADVICE, TO ALL WHO WILL LISTEN, THE FURY OF A WOMAN WHO LIVES ON REVENGE, EVEN IN THE FACE OF DEATH, IS A RECKONING THAT SPARES NO ONE. The Dukedom Heiress Luella Van-Rensselaer thought that by doing everything her family needed, she would have the beautiful and loving family she had always wanted. However, she ends up getting betrayed by her own twin sister and her fiancé. Having gotten fed up with her family and how badly they had put her through, Luella wishes for death, which her sister gives to her as she ends up dying in the hands of her sister and fiancé. Finally, finding the peace she had always wanted, she wakes up to when she was eighteen (18) years old as the funeral service of her father. And now filled with nothing but rage and memories of her past, she now aims to destroy the entire dukedom with its name. The Van-Rensselaer dukedom will end WITH her and BY her. ~+~ A MAN WHO LOVES HIS WOMAN WITH NO POWER OR WEALTH IS NOTHING BUT A DREAMER; BUT A MAN WHO LOVES HIS WOMAN WITH POWER AND WEALTH IS A PROTECTOR, WORTHY TO BE BY HER SIDE. And that was what Grand Duke Ozed Rhinelander was. A man who went to war for his woman, accumulated wealth for his woman, lives for his woman. And he would kill for his woman. When Luella decides to take revenge on her family, she goes to one person she fully trusts. ~+~ ~Fragment~ "Do you want this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was a hint of something else beneath — something that made her heart skip a beat. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. The question hung in the air between them, heavy and tangible. "I… I don't know," She finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper. His lips curled into a smirk, a slow, dangerous smile that sent shivers down her spine. "Liar" he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through her. "You want this. You want me." She opened her mouth to protest, to deny it, but he didn't give her a chance. His hand shot out, gripping her chin roughly, forcing her to look up at him. "Do you want me to prove it?" He asked, his voice dripping with challenge. ~+~ Tags: #Revenge #Strongfemalelead, #norape, #reincarnation, #Fakeidentity, #EdwardianEra, #VampireRomance #Smut #Supernaturalpowers #magic #darkfantasy #long-distance pining (The main characters are aware of each other's feelings but can't be physically be together yet. IN THE BEGINNING CHAPTERS). ~+~ Cover is mine. DO NOT USE ____ @AR

Cain was a boy of fortune and misfortune, he was an orphan who lost his parents the moment he became an adult, they just disappeared. By another stroke of misfortune he himself died by drowning in a lake near his old house but is it the end of his journey. Thrust upon a world he thought only existed in novels as a mere extra that wasn't supposed to exist join him in his journey as he unravels the secrets of his transmigration, his life and his past which becomes more unclear the more he discovers. As an ancient prophecy looms as a menacing blade over everyone's throats be it demons or gods. Will Cain become a pawn in the unveiling of this prophecy or will he flip the board? **Authors note: Guys this is my first novel so if you can please support me and remind me in case of any mistakes i might make so i may give you better in the future**

Ronaldo: Kai, I thought you were here to assist me. Deng Kai: Initially, I indeed came to assist you. Ronaldo: Then why have I become the king of assists? Deng Kai: Because I've realized that I can Carry better than you! Don't be mad, being the king of assists isn't so bad. Everyone is now saying that you and Xixi are in a league of your own beneath me! Ronaldo: Pah! Messi: Smug face! Kaka: ??? Beckham: Watch my flying boot! Fat Ronaldo: I'll get your family some Golden Throat Lozenges! Ronaldinho: Let’s swing together! Zidane: Take this, my Iron Head Skill! Neymar: So what about us younger ones? Deng Kai: We're all kings of the ball, no need to be formal! Keep the music playing on the green field, keep dancing!

{WARNING: THIS BOOK IS HIGHLY SMUTTY} "Run, little bird." His voice is a whisper of sin and smoke, curling around my body like chains I cannot break. I should run. I should fight. But I don’t. Because he’s already caught me. A rough hand grips my throat, tilting my chin up—forcing me to meet his eyes. Red. Burning. Ravenous. "You can try to escape, little wife," he murmurs, his breath hot against my lips. "But we both know how this ends." I am his. Bound to the Devil. Trapped in his Hell. Luciel—King of the Underworld. Predator in human skin. A monster with a smile that undoes me, ruins me, devours me. Every whisper is a command. Every touch is a punishment. Every kiss is a slow death. And the worst part? I want more. His fingers trail down my spine, lower, lower—until I’m arching, trembling, drowning. "Look at you," he taunts, lips ghosting over my pulse. "So desperate for the monster you fear." I should hate him. I should fight harder. But then his lips brush my ear, and he chuckles—low, dark, merciless, making me give in to his darkhold. "Good girl."

"Young people often fall for the wrong people, and I guess my wrong person was you." Morana, a young lady, who was treated cruely by her family, unwanted by the society, was assassinated by her husband and her supposed step-sister. "Even if I had to crawl out of the depths of hell, I would return. I would make them pay for every lie, every betrayal, every moment of agony they had inflicted on me. And when I did, they would know the full weight of my wrath." Those were her last words before she succumbed to darkeness. But she never expected to be given a second chance at life. "Three hundred and sixty-five days. That is the time you have to carry out your revenge. If you succeed, your soul will be free to move on. But if you fail..." My throat tightened. "If I fail?" The being’s glow darkened, and its voice echoed with finality. "You will cease to exist. Your soul will turn to dust and vanish, leaving no trace of you in any realm." What happens after she exhaust one year, even if she succeed in seeking revenge?

[Warning: Mature content, R-18, Sexually explicit content. 100 Chapters done.] LISTEN UP, YOU THIRSTY DEGENERATES! YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THIS SH*T? Forget all that watered-down, fairy-tale bullsht you’ve been spoon-fed. You still here? Well, guess what—you’re about to step into a world where the only rule is to fck sht up and survive. You got demons crawling out of hell and humans so degenerates, they’d trade their own mother for a shot at power. This ain’t no noble quest, it’s a f*cking bloodbath—and you better be ready to get drenched in it. Here’s what you’re about to dive into: • Demons so fine seductive they’ll make you forget what’s right or wrong—who cares when evil looks this damn sexy? • Humans? Hah! They’re more fcked up than the demons! You think they’re the good guys? Guess again, dipsh*t. They’re here to carve out their own slice of hell, and they don’t care whose throat they gotta slit to do it. • Battles so savage, you’ll be choking on blood—if you’re lucky. If you ain’t? You’ll be crawling through the mud, beggin’ for someone to finish you off. Spoiler: They won’t. • Lust? This ain’t romance, you dumb fck. This is raw, filthy, boner-breaking need. Warriors in the heat of battle, ready to fck or kill, sometimes both. And trust me, they don’t care if you watch. "Holy sh*t, I don’t know who’s worse—the demons or the humans!" — Some pervert who thought he was ready for this trash fire. THINK THAT’S IT? HELL NO, YOU DIRTY BASTARD! • Twists so fcking brutal they’ll rip your soul out and use it for target practice. • Choices so fcked up you’ll wish you never had to make ‘em—but guess what? Nobody cares what you wish for, bitch. • A world so black, so hopeless, even the demons are lookin’ for an exit—and there ain’t one, motherf*cker. FINAL WARNING: This ain’t a story for the weak, the clean, or the sane. We got gut-wrenching violence, straight-up vulgar dirty f*cking, and choices that’ll make you puke. If you ain’t down to get your soul violated, turn around and get the f*ck out. This is the point of no return. #DemonsWantBloodAndAss #WuxiaWithZeroF*cks #MoralityIsForTheDead #ThisIsYourNewHell Disclaimer: This story will ruin you. Side effects include sleepless nights, uncontrolled boners, and the overwhelming urge to f*ck, fight, and die all at once. Proceed if you got the balls for it—or not. Cover Art AI Generated.

He grabbed my throat hard and pinned his gaze on me. I gasped, astounded, feeling as if my neck was impeded by chains. His very dim eyes intimidated me so bad I felt I could die. His chilly breath fanned my face. He was cold, his skin felt grossly cold but I felt more hurt from his grip on my neck. He was choking the life out of me, I couldn't even make a high sound as he had seemingly suppressed my vocal cords with his hold. ~~~ Princess Almira was captured into Sihasin after an enemy kingdom invaded into her home kingdom, Perston. Now a slave, she faced incredible sufferings but yet still became the fifty mistress of his royal highness, King Luther — A king so astute but yet so seemingly ruthless and sadistic. Love bloomed between them however, but with the strong need to escape and take back her father's kingdom which Luther had conquered, will she fight over her heart or let love take its lead? [NOTE: THIS IS A SLOW BURN ROMANCE BOOK (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠) COVER NOT MINE]

Duong Son Nam’s life as a boarding student in Class 11D at Nhan Hoa High School was supposed to be peaceful—just as he had hoped. But that hope was shattered when he accidentally became the first person to discover the gruesome corpse of Hoang Anh Tuan, a 10th-grade student, on the very first morning of the school year. His throat torn open. His heart crushed to pieces. The one responsible for such a horrifying, brutal, and merciless crime could not be human!

Twenty-eight year old Delilah Sterling, has perfected the art of being a respectable realtor by day, and a professional gold digger by night. Delilah believes she has her double life under control. Her meticulously crafted life crumbles when she wakes up one morning with a wedding band on her finger, a marriage certificate on the table, and a sinfully gorgeous man claiming to be her husband. To make matters worse, he is broke and jobless, making her feel trapped in a surreal nightmare. Desperate for escape, Delilah demands a divorce, but the stranger—insisting he wants to stay married—thwarts every attempt. Frustration and confusion mount until Delilah hatches a new plan: she proposes they team up to con her next target, the elusive billionaire, Hunter Quinn. What Delilah doesn't realize is that her "broke husband" is actually Hunter Quinn himself. Billionaire CEO, Hunter Quinn, having discovered Delilah’s intentions to con him, had decided to outplay her at her own game. Hunter agrees to the partnership, and together they plunge into a high-stakes game of deceit. As they plot and scheme, the lines between pretense and reality blur. Their forced proximity ignites an unexpected chemistry, leading to moments of vulnerability and genuine connection neither anticipated. Caught in a whirlwind of deception, passion, and power plays, Delilah grapples with their growing feelings. As their con deepens, she must confront the ultimate question: Can she open her heart to love and trust again? ****Exerpt**** Delilah’s eyes darted to the marriage certificate again, the official seal glaring back at her. Her fingers itched to tear it apart, to make this nightmare disappear. But deep down, she knew that wouldn’t change anything. “I don’t remember,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I don’t remember any of it.” Blake nodded as if he had expected this reaction. “That is expected. You had a lot to drink last night.” he fished out a phone from the back pocket of his trousers, opened it. “Here, this is us celebrating, after we got married last night,” he said, showing her a picture. Delilah’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the photo. It was indeed her. “How?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t remember any of this.” “It was a wild night,” he said softly. Perhaps she had married Blake because he was wealthy. That would be the only logical reason for her to make such a blunder. There was hope, she thought, as she clung to the possibility of salvaging something from this disaster. Turning to him, she forced a smile, “Is this your house? Are we in your house?” She asked, looking around the bedroom. Blake shook his head, “No. This is a hotel,” he said, and she nodded. “I see. It looks like quite an expensive hotel,” she observed, “What do you do for a living?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she searched his eyes for any hint of affluence. Blake hesitated, his confident demeanor faltering for the first time. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m... in between jobs,” he stuttered, avoiding her gaze. Delilah’s heart sank, disappointment crashing over her like a wave. “In between jobs?” she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. Blake seemed to sense her dismay. “I know it doesn’t sound great,” he said quickly, trying to reassure her. “But I’m working on a few things. I just need a little more time.” “You’re jobless,” she muttered to herself as reality sunk in. “How did you pay for this room? For the wedding bands?” She asked, and he winced. “I didn’t. You did,” he said, and she collapsed on the bed. (PS: Cover photo isn’t mine. Credit to the real owner)

Ingrid Dolph, a lowly she-wolf happens to be in her ripe age of locating her mate. And it was during this time that the rumor about a dragon egg spread like wildfire and everyone was asked to hunt for it. Whoever finds it will have a greater share and unbelievable privileges. Excited for the hunt, Ingrid takes part in it with the motive of finding it and bargaining for its blood and scale. But as fate would have it, she didn't just find it but that same dragon turns out to be her mate. ***** ~{SNEAK PREVIEW}~ The closer I got, the more I realized it was a full grown naked man. What? A man? How was the dragon a man? Suddenly I growled and groaned as my body grew hot by just the sight of him. What was wrong with me? Could it be that my wolf side was affected by the dragon because of the smell of its blood? Disregarding the fact that he was naked, I approached him and my breathing became labored as my senses heightened to an intense level I never knew possible. “Who would dare do such a thing to him!” I angrily said aloud and that was when his eyes opened, causing my breath to get caught in my throat. He was breathtaking! His lashes were white and they shimmered while his iris were gray in color. “Ingrid,” he breathed out my name and my eyes widened in wonder at the fact that he knew my name.

When the port of Franik chokes on briny fog thick with the reek of decay, a witcher pierced through the heart by a pitchfork opens eyes that no longer belong to him—Bai Lang, a 21st-century zoologist, now inhabits this scarred body. Hired by a tavern keeper for three silver coins to dredge up a drowned earl’s bastard, he finds a spoon stamped with royal wax in the corpse’s bloated stomach. As fishing nets haul up indigo cloth fragments from the New World, the gallows creaks under the weight of its seventh “witch,” her charred ankles swaying above the harbor. Twelve letters bearing disparate noble crests steer Bai Lang toward a fractured silver sword’s trail: a sarcophagus in a monastery crypt weeps with a banshee’s lament, a cyclops’ birthmark glows upon a fishergirl’s collarbone in rhythm with the tides, and Crusader curses fester as sentient barnacles devouring sailors in a merchant ship’s belly. Yet the deadliest snare lies in the crown prince’s chambers—a unicorn tapestry woven from twelve bastards’ umbilical cords, every thread stitched with the witchers’ vanishing truth. Shrouded sails pierce the North Sea’s fury as the fabled Isle of Witchers emerges from mythic fog. When pyres of burning witches stain the horizon and the Pope’s dagger presses against a laboring mother’s fevered throat, Bai Lang clutches the final shard of silver and understands: the plague ravaging the Old World is no act of God, but a funeral orchestrated by New World capitalists and Old World theocrats. The last witcher’s blade, once plunged into monstrous hearts, must now carve an epitaph for the devils mankind has birthed—and bury an era in its silver grave.

After meeting an unfortunate death on earth, Sigrid unwillingly transmigrated into a novel world becoming Lady Sigrid Thorin the unwanted wife of the crown prince. She resigned herself to her fate and set a goal to become the empress. But to become the future empress, she had to gain the heart of her husband_the foul tempered Prince Roland Maximus a man that loathed her and would sooner kill her than kiss her. While his heart was too thin for her to squeeze into, it was rather wide for the woman he brought home on returning from a three month expedition, a woman he had sworn to protect forever. The same woman Sigrid was on a mission to destroy, an irreconcilable enemy. With misunderstandings, scheming and jealousy, thus begun Sigrid's trials to win the heart of the man that had undeniably captivated her with his dazzling smile and her mission step over the fake female lead, be crowned empress and change her fate. Excerpt. "A knife to the throat of your husband that has just returned from war, what do you hope to accomplish crown princess?" Sigrid's eyes trailed down, to the silver blade pressed against her abdomen, she raised her head and laughed snidely. "A knife to the belly of your wife as soon as you return from war, other men start by saying, honey i am home. They also don't bring home unwanted canaries as presents for their wives." Roland leaned down with a part smug and part angry smoldering look in his eyes. It was if he wished to set her on fire, and not in the passionate way. "Honey i am home." he slowly said, dragging the words out. Sigrid trailed the knife slowly over his neck, almost as if she was caressing it with her fingers. "Welcome back, i hope you don't mind but i intend to kill that canary. If you want to bring me a gift next time, try gold and diamonds. I can also accept you, just wrap a ribbon around your bare chest."

As acid rain corrodes the skyscrapers of New York City, Luna, a convenience store clerk in Kansas, finds herself a post-apocalyptic “savior” with the last 5,000 cans of beans in the state stacked in her underground warehouse. The sociopathic, blood-sick, cockroach-shy 24-year-old is forced to establish the rules of her new world with tin cans and expired candy: Want food? Trade secrets. But when marauders point guns at her glass door, a swarm of mutant voles gnaws at the shelves, and survivors begin to question “why the Savior is a dumbass who's never even been in love,” Luna finally raises the crowbar to her betrayer's throat: “Now, get down on your knees and call me God. ”

Synopsis: "Tell me, Father, do you truly believe your God listens when you pray… or does He turn His ear away, knowing you already belong to me?" Father Andrien was a man of God—once. His faith was unwavering, his prayers unbroken, his soul unstained. Until the night he sinned. No one knew. No one saw. But he did. The stranger arrived at dusk, stepping into the dim candlelight of the chapel like he belonged there. Lucian. A name that dripped from his lips like an old hymn, his presence as familiar as the silence before a storm. "You called for me once, Father. Have you forgotten?" Andrien doesn’t remember. But the shadows do. The stones beneath his feet hum with the echoes of a prayer he was never meant to speak. A desperate plea made in the throes of grief, whispered to something that was listening. Now, the price must be paid. The holy water curdles at his touch. His rosary tightens around his throat. The walls of the church whisper his name in voices not of this world. And Lucian—Lucian watches. "You wear His cross, but your soul was promised to me. Shall we collect what was left unfinished?" A prophecy lost to time. A sin buried in blood. And a man of faith who prayed to the wrong god. The devil does not forget.

They call him Ling A’Xian, a hostage prince, a pawn in a war he never asked for. But that is not his name. Not truly. Han Ziyao-- a name whispered in the void, a past too distant to grasp… and a love that refuses to fade. In a world where fate is rewritten with every life he steps into, Han Ziyao has long abandoned the illusion of control. He transmigrates without warning, wakes in unfamiliar bodies, and plays whatever role the universe demands of him. But amidst shifting identities and fractured timelines, one thing remains constant—him. And the man who always finds him. Tonight, that man is the Crown Prince. And Ling A’Xian is pressed against a glazed partition, his breath unsteady as gloved fingers trace the curve of his jaw. “Running again, A’Xian?” The prince’s voice is velvet and steel, his golden eyes unreadable in the candlelight. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy being caught.” A’Xian exhales sharply, forcing a smirk despite the way heat surges within his stomach. “And I’m beginning to think you enjoy the chase.” The prince hums, his grip tightening just enough to make A’Xian’s pulse stutter. “Perhaps. But tell me…” He leans in, the warmth of his breath ghosting over A’Xian’s lips. “What will you do when there’s nowhere left to run?” A’Xian doesn’t answer. He can’t. Not when the prince’s gloved hand is slipping lower, not when the space between them is vanishing, not when he’s dangerously close to forgetting that this isn’t love—it’s obsession. And yet, as soft lips brush against his throat in a mythical promise, he wonders if, in this life, he’ll be the one to break first. Because some bonds, no matter how many lifetimes pass, are never meant to be severed.

Being the only human in a school full of supernatural beings is hard. But being fated to the son of the Alpha your father killed? That’s a death sentence. ******** Carnemore Academy was never meant for someone like Claire: the daughter of a head hunter who used to kill supernaturals in the past. But when the peace treaty between hunters and supernaturals start to crack, she’s sent straight to the heart of danger— a school where everyone hates her and wants her dead. No one despises her more than Zane Wolfe Ravenscroft, her mate and the son of the Alpha her father murdered. And then there’s Caius Valerius, a vampire prince who should hate her just as much, only he doesn’t. And Lorien Feyrune, the Fae prince with a shattered heart and dangerous obsession. As Claire navigates the dangers of Carnemore and her complex relationships, more secrets about her father is revealed. Now, she must choose. Duty or desire? Family or fate? Love or survival? Because in Carnemore, secrets are deadlier than silver bullets. And some bonds were never meant to be broken. ************* Claire barely had time to catch her breath before Zane was in front of her, his golden eyes locked onto hers like a predator closing in on its prey. “Why are you all over the place with Caius?” He asked. Claire crossed her arms, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “Because he’s my friend,” she said, though the moment the words left her lips, she saw the way Zane’s jaw tensed. “Friend?” He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking to nothing. She swallowed. “Why do you care?” His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You can’t have friends.” Claire’s breath hitched. “Why?” Zane leaned in, his voice a whisper against her skin. “Because you’re mine.” Her stomach flipped, her nails digging into her palms. “You rejected me,” she reminded him, her throat tightening around the words. “You didn’t want me, remember?” “That doesn’t change anything.” Her heart pounded. “It changes everything.” He reached up, brushing his fingers against her jaw, tilting her chin so she couldn’t look away. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was softer now, but no less dangerous. “You’re my toy, Claire.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. “And I’m the only one who gets to play with you.” ************ This book is rated 18+. Fantasy Romance Morally Grey ML Smut Bullying Violence No Reverse Harem

Being a royal was demanding and yet being the Royal future king was far more demanding than his people imagined. The tenuous training, immensely growing power and rigorous studies hardly left any time for Eric to be a child. His abilities manifested when he was four years old making it impossible for him to normally relate with others. Eric knew she was going be a problem for him or even more than a problem. He didn't want to hurt her yet she was more than willing to hit him in physical and magical combat so he obliged her. A green eyed beauty who will take on boys older than herself as long as she can be on the Royal Guard turns the Creator's plans to motion. She has been shunned, undermined and neglected yet her spirit is blazing. Her gift is rare and feared yet she's unafraid and proud. Lighters were often unable to control their gifts, known for hurting those around them when they exploded with emotion. Most lighters blocked their gift and retained use of their defensive gift. Years later... Reina used both her gifts to make it to the Guard and being female in a male dominated guard meant she fought harder and dirty to keep up. To make things worse the future king was her training partner. He was beyond powerful and she wasn't sure she wanted to burn his gorgeous body... ******EXCERPT****** Her scent had changed into something intoxicating, addictive, threatening to everything I treasured. Reina was my partner, best friend and yet I wanted more. "I'm not yours Eric…" she whispered as I inhaled her scent and kissed her neck. "You don't believe that," I murmured as I brought my lips closer to her mouth she was glowing, trembling as I grabbed her pony tail and let it loose. she gasped at my audacity giving me the chance I needed. I claimed her mouth pushing her against the wall. Arms tightened around my back as I deepened the kiss. I placed a hand on her bare waist and a blast of heat consumed me. she moaned deep in her throat as I brought her hips closer to mine. You're mine Reina, only mine. I drawled against her neck.

What happens when a goddess falls in love with a shifter? Asara; the goddess of love, was punished by her father, the god of thunder. Her crime being falling in love with a mortal shifter Alpha. To pay for her sins she was reborn as Cassandra LeBlanc; a mortal Princess in the magical Kingdom of Speldaria. Her family and kingdom, except her middle sister, shunned her for she was born without any magical abilities and she had no recollections of her true identity. Her betrothed, the powerful mage commander of the Speldaria, was unbothered by her. He wished for someone strong. Cassandra’s life was toppled when she was gifted a warrior slave by the mighty Alpha of Dusartine. She was asked to take part in the Yearly Arena Event by collaborating with the warrior. Cassandra who hated ‘The Arena’ with her very breath. A place where blood flowed like wine and life was cheaper than the very air they breathed didn't understand her purpose in it. On top of that, the mysterious warrior affected her in unimaginable ways. His hypnotic gaze unsettled her. His rare essence overwhelmed her. His muscular bronzed body consumed her with sinful thoughts. Even the dreams of her past life plagued her. When ‘The Arena' began the hidden agendas and underlying truths came to light and Cassandra was played a hand of fate. She was left with no choice but to give in and choose a path. The question would be. How will Cassandra grapple once she learns of the curse placed on her? Will she be able to obtain her magical abilities and stand up to her father? Who will help her along the journey? ~Excerpt~ Then she felt him, all of him. All his ruggedness. The strength of his arm. The softness of his lips. The grip of his hand. The warmth of his breath. Every muscle in her body went taut at the implications of sleeping in a man’s arms. She had never slept in a male’s embrace before. Her whole skin tingled like tiny sparks dancing on the very parts that connected with him. The crevices of her brain had these memories which weren't hers. This touch somehow didn't seem foreign to her. She felt safe in his soothing embrace and didn't wish to push him away and yet she knew this was far from appropriate. Cassandra tried to wriggle out of his hold, his arms seemed to be built from iron for they wouldn't budge. The light garment she had worn had lifted from her milky thigh baring it as his bronzed muscular one was draped on it. And now she could sense something poking her back. Her eyes suddenly expanded from the realisation and Cassandra fully panicked. “Let go!” She voiced out, heavily. Siroos slowly lifted his leg and slackened his hold on her waist so she could shuffle away. He had awakened when she had stiffened for the first time but wished to behold what she would try. With eyes blown wide she stole a glance towards the man who had her wrapped in his embrace like a precious treasure, his treasure. His molten gold eyes had flickered open and there was this softness and want with which he stared at her. Those soft brown curls cascaded over his eyes as he forgot to blink, watching the timeless beauty that she was. Her one-of-a-kind fragrance was a torture to his senses. How he wished to grab her dainty ankle, pull her from it and have her sprawled underneath him. To kiss the very skin that oozed such scent which was driving him insane. Instead, he bent his arm and placed it under his cheek using it like a pillow to watch her with desire-filled eyes. The awkward lull between them prolonged as Cassandra cleared her throat. “Did you have to climb on me to sleep?” “It wasn't intentional but was certainly enticing and definitely won't be the last time.” His deeply hypnotic voice was even more alluring this early in the morning as it resonated all around her. The book cover is mine.

The sacred chamber was dimly lit, the scent of incense curling in the air like whispers of forgotten prayers. His breath came uneven, his hands trembled at his sides as he stared at the man before him—the warrior who should not have been here. "You shiver so easily," the warrior murmured, his voice dark, teasing. Tempting. His fingers brushed over the fine silk of the priest’s robe, not quite touching—just a whisper of heat, but enough to unravel him. "D-Don’t," he breathed, stepping back, but the warrior followed. "Don’t what?" The smirk in his voice was maddening. Mocking. Dangerous. "You know what exactly you are doing. This is unacceptable..." The warrior closed the space between them and placed his finger on his lips, causing his body to tremble. His throat bobbed. The rules of the sect were clear. He was supposed to be untouchable—unblemished in body and soul, a perfect example of godliness and pureness. And yet… "I can hear your heartbeat." The warrior leaned in, the tip of his nose barely grazing his jaw. Too close. "So wild… tell me, is it fear or something else?" His lips parted, but the words died on his tongue when strong hands found his wrist, tugging him forward, pressing him flush against the heat of his body. A sharp gasp escaped him. "Let me go," he whispered pleadingly. "Then go," the warrior challenged, loosening his grip—but his body refused to move. A sinful chuckle brushed against his ear. "See? You don’t want to leave." "I do." The lie burned his tongue. "Then why are you not?" A strangled sound escaped him as warmth pooled in his core—something he never should have felt. Something he never knew he could feel. His knees buckled, but before he could fall, strong arms caught him. Held him. Claimed him. "Look at you," the warrior hummed, his voice thick with something dangerous. "I barely touched you, and you’re already breaking. Doesn't this mean something to you, my moonflower?" The warrior looked into the divine one's eyes and noticed the change of color in his eyes which made him smirk as if he had gotten his lucky shot. His gaze darkened in return, sharp with an incomprehensible hunger and before the priest could utter another world, his lips were claimed. A single tear slipped free, rolling down his cheek—a silent surrender. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't fight against this burning desire in him anymore. He was just going to let it be—whatever would happen should happen. The warrior hummed in satisfaction at the taste of the divine one, his grip tightening. A gasp was swallowed whole as the warrior’s mouth moved against his, devouring, demanding, tasting. Heat licked down his spine, a fire awakening within him, spreading through his veins like an unspoken prophecy. "So beautiful," the warrior murmured against his lips before diving back in, stealing another kiss—deeper, rougher, hungrier. He was an angel worth sinning for. The Priest's fingers clutched at the fabric between them, desperate, lost, drowning. The world outside ceased to exist. Only this moment remained. Only this touch, this heat—this forbidden, maddening desire. And as the flames outside flickered wildly in the night, so too did he burn. . . . . Y'all, this picture was gotten from Pinterest. I only changed the names and added little design. I do not originally own it. Thank you.

It hurts, my hole body, my head. My hand went to my throat, there too equally hurt as much. And next came my air… it went fast, faster than I could even imagine, my lungs felt out of air, and it was only a matter of time, did I process to breath in. My awaken had been so peaceful I forgot to breath… My awaken? I looked up, and saw I had fallen right in front of a mirror, my hair covering my pained and distressed face, my heart pounding like before, and my hands digging into the carpet to my group. What happened? What happened? What happened? Nabie Reigns?! The door knob twisted, an old looking lady walking in, and her face hold the same distress mine did. Mother… “Nabie dear… your late for school.”

In the hidden corridors of power where desire and danger intertwine, Valeria Ivanov—the beguiling daughter of a notorious mafia don—learns that seduction is her deadliest weapon. Tasked with a mission that pits her against the equally formidable Adrian DeLuca, the enigmatic heir of a rival crime family, she enters a world where every whispered promise and stolen touch could be fatal. Adrian, a master strategist renowned for his icy reserve, finds himself drawn to her intoxicating blend of danger and seduction, his calculated facade slowly melting beneath the heat of their forbidden encounters. As secret trysts evolve into nights of raw, unbridled passion, the boundaries between duty and lust blur. Every clandestine rendezvous is a battle between their relentless ambition and the exquisite pleasure of surrendering to temptation. Amid the decadent backdrop of blood-soaked loyalty and whispered betrayals, Valeria struggles with the growing conflict between her mission and the irresistible allure of a love that promises both ecstasy and ruin. In a world where trust is as fragile as a whispered secret and every caress could conceal a knife, Beneath the Crimson Veil is an erotic journey into the depths of passion, power, and betrayal. Here, the price of desire is steep, and the stakes are life and death—leaving both hearts and empires forever transformed by the flames of a forbidden love. Excerpt: The dim glow of the city lights cast jagged shadows across Adrian’s sharp features as he leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his gaze a storm of suspicion and something darker—something far more dangerous. Valeria stood across from him, her expression an intoxicating mix of defiance and amusement. She had perfected the art of playing innocent, but tonight, something in Adrian’s eyes made her heart pound in warning. “You’re up to something,” he said, voice low and measured, like the edge of a blade pressing against silk. She arched a brow, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. “Oh?” she mused, tilting her head. “And what exactly am I up to, amore mio?” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “You tell me.” A slow smirk curled her lips as she invaded his space, her fingers lightly grazing the lapel of his jacket. “You don’t have proof.” His eyes darkened, flicking down to where her fingers toyed with the fabric. “I don’t need proof,” he murmured. “I see it in your eyes. The way you watch me. Like you’re calculating your next move.” Valeria chuckled, the sound soft, teasing. “And here I thought you were the one watching me.” She dragged her nails lightly down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath his tailored suit. “You want proof?” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist, but his touch wasn’t rough—it was deliberate, commanding. “Yes.” His voice dropped lower, nearly a whisper. “Prove it.” The challenge hung between them, thick with tension. Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she didn’t hesitate. She reached up, her fingers threading into his dark hair as she closed the space between them, her lips grazing his—soft, testing, before she deepened it.

Faye wakes up in a world she doesn’t recognize, surrounded by strange men—one claiming to be her fiancé, another calling himself her savior, and a short guard offering her popcorn like she’s watching a theater play instead of living in it. The problem? She doesn’t remember anything—not her past, not her kingdom, and certainly not this so-called "future husband." Bom, an eccentric white-haired handsome doctor with a love for chicken , swears he can bring back her memories… for a price . Regis, the intense and brooding king, insists she belongs by his side. But with missing memories, strange magic, and the mystery of her unnatural pink hair, Faye isn’t sure who to trust—or even who she truly is. One thing is certain: if she wants answers, she’ll have to face the forgotten past, an adventure filled with unexpected twists, and maybe even… a dragon? Between chaos, comedy, and a little romance, Faye’s journey to uncover the truth is just beginning. And with Bom and Regis constantly at each other’s throats, one question remains: Will she reclaim her past—or carve out a new destiny?

[Content Warning: This story contains several dark themes, including death and gore. Please read with caution.] The female lead may or may not display cruelty. (Proceed with caution if you choose to roast her.) _____________ The art of revenge is often a slow burn - calculated, patient and emotionally restrained. But what happens when vengeance strikes instantly? After being banished and dethroned as Luna by her pack Veronica Gordon is betrayed by her fiance' and is brutally murdered by him and his lover,her body shredded for organ trafficking on the eve of her wedding. Death should have been the end,but Veronica defies it, striking a deal for a second chance. Bound to the site of her deminse and granted the powers for her revenge, she transforms the place into Delilah's Inn,an establishment named after the infamous biblical seductress. Her mission is clear: lure and destroy cheating men and their accomplices. Centuries later, Delilah's Inn becomes a legend, immortalised in a mysterious novel with only 200 copies printed every five years. Adonis McCallum, a 24 year old university student and devoted fan of the tale, devours every edition. But his obsession takes a grim turn when he meets the same fate as Veronica - betrayed and murdered by his lover. Instead of passing on, Adonis is sent to the Inn by The Grim Reaper,who hopes to expedite his soul collection. Yet Adonis,with his innocence intact, proves immune to the Inn's seductive power. To escape and reclaim his life, he strikes an unlikely deal with the Grim Reaper: make Veronica fall in love with him - a woman whose heart has been dead for over a century cursed to feel nothing but cruelty. As Adonis navigates the sinister politics,lies and anguish entangled within Delilah's Inn, he must decide if his freedom is worth breaking through Veronica's icy facade - or if her revenge will claim him too. ______ TROPES: •— Werewolf. •—Dominant FL. •—Isekai x Transmigration. •—Dark Romance. •—Betrayal x Revenge. •—Slow Burn (some what) •—Horror?(I'll leave that you to decide) •—Boss × Employee relationship. •—Reverse Grumpy x Sunshine. •— Possessive x obsessive. •— Morally Grey FL. ______ Recommended Reading Theme: Dark. Recommended Reading Font: Lora Or Merriweather. _____ EXCERPT: I walked into the room, my chest still heaving as I stopped in front of her. She sat there, calm and unbothered, as though she hadn’t just spilled blood in the lobby like it was her second nature. Her crimson-polished nails clicked rhythmically against the smooth table. Her gaze was fixed on the open book in front of her—a book she hadn’t turned a single page of all morning. “I see you love standing, Adonis.” Her voice was calm, almost too calm. She didn’t bother looking up. “It was just a hug, Veronica,” I said through gritted teeth. “You shouldn’t have done that. Maya has served you loyally for years—” “Until she touched what is mine.” Her voice sliced through my words, sharp and absolute. I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “What’s yours? What’s the point of being yours when you treat me like… like I’m nothing?” The book slammed shut with a deafening clap. She rose to her feet in one fluid motion, every step toward me deliberate, predatory. Her eyes met mine, cold and unrelenting. “No one touches you but me, Adonis. Good, bad, whatever label you want to slap on it—I don’t care.” My breath caught in my throat, but I forced myself to hold my ground. “That’s not love, Veronica.” She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “Love?” She laughed, soft but sharp, the sound laced with mockery. “Don’t insult me.”

WARNING: Mature Content. Winner of WPC #197 (Silver) The handmaiden's hurried footsteps can be heard in the hallway, followed by a loud slamming of the door. When we were finally left alone, Rin's calm voice can be heard, "I don't like that maid of yours, I will have to get you a new one within the week." I nodded, by this time I am used to having my handmaidens changed. He took the comb and started combing my hair, his dark eyes looking straight into my eyes, the sheer perfection of his face in contrast to my ever-plain-looking face. I looked away, I can't bear looking at it, it reminds me of the book that I'm in and how this is not a fairytale. He held me by the shoulders and asked in a cold voice, "Why do you look away? Is the idea of us still so intolerable for you?" I don't know how to answer him so I just nodded and bit my lower lip. He carried me to bed as he kissed my hair. Then, he laid me on the bed, his eyes boring through mine. "I hate that you are afraid of me, and that the idea of us is unacceptable to you. But right now, the only thing making you stay with me is fear of what I'd do if I lose you, I have no choice but to hold onto it. Forgive me Maru, I have no choice but to cherish the fear I have inflicted on you." He disrobed me, his calloused hands rough against my skin, feeling, touching, and leaving warmth where it landed. I winced every time his fingers land on a bruise, or on some of the fresh marks he placed there last night. "Do you want this?" he asked me as his fingers curled against my breasts, pinching one taut nipple after the other. I nodded, unable to deny under his skeptical gaze, I moaned in pleasure when his lips replaced his touch. His tongue licked on a pinkish bud and then sucked so very gently. "Tell me, any time you want me to stop, Maru. One word, that is all I need," he whispered and I blushed as I was reminded that I never stopped his assaults. I was powerless against my own needs, in the modern human world, it seems I am a submissive. And right here taking me in for another torturous night, is my dominant. I am married to Rin Saito, the most powerful monarch this world has ever seen, and I... I think I may have found my master in him. "Raise your hands for me, raise them above your head, and clasp them together," he whispered, his mouth barely an inch from my ear. I obliged, my body trembling from desire and fear combined, anticipating his next orders and feeling my body give in to his control. He took a silky rope he has been keeping on the drawers of the bedside table, and smiling, bounded up my wrists. "Tighter?" his sadistic smile made him a bit more benevolent in my eyes. I trembled from excitement as I nodded my head. He tightened my bind and leveled his head with mine, then he dipped his head, claiming my lips as I squirm helplessly against him. He opened my lips and slid his tongue inside my throat, my own saliva dripping down my neck. "Beautiful, my beautiful Maru," I heard him whisper as his hands continued to travel down, stroking and sliding gently down my skin until it reached my undergarments. "You shouldn't even bother with this, you know of my appetite. I told you not to wear them at night, my love, do you really want to be punished that badly?" I moaned, his lips curving in a proud smile. "I like it when you lose yourself in shameless pleasure. I like it when I can sully the princess and turn her into my queen," he claimed my lips more possessively.

The girl gave a sudden cry of protest. The leader of the beggars had caught her arm and, as she reached out for her dagger, the second man caught her free arm and twisted it up and away from her belt....... Authur sighed and quickly turned throwing back his cloak and drew his sword from where it was hanging behind his left shoulder. Producing weapons from under their rag clothes, the band of four beggars turned to deal with the newcomer. Authur sent the first man sprawling in the dust with a shrewd blow from his sword, as a dagger was raised to strike him. The second beggar had a cudgel, and as he slashed at Authur, he found himself facing an incredibly long sword, probably the longest he had seen in his life, snaking over the top of his hand to prick at his throat. The man howled, tripping over his feet in an effort to avoid the wicked looking sword. The third beggar attempted to come over from behind Authur, but Authur as if having eyes behind him quickly stepped to his right hand side, throwing his sword from his right hand to his left hand to meet the leader of the gang who himself had a wicked looking blade of his own also, which was sent flying at an incredibly fast speed from his hand. The leader howled and doubled over, clutching at his elbow. It was over.........