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Wick Horror Game

The Reaper's Wicked Obsession

[Matured Content] In a world of gods and Faes. Isadora Skaldwood was born a Fae but of impure blood “mannfae” deemed an inferior creation of the olden gods. Yet at birth she was kissed by the goddess of life and blessed with the ability of a skin weaver, capable of healing any wound or affliction. Betrayed by her family, she's sold for gain, shipped across the world to a brothel, into the hands of a selfish businessman who exploited her abilities for years. Travelers come to this brothel not to lay with the rumored mannfae but to seek her abilities. But then everything changed when “He” appeared… Kraven Val Thrond, widely known as “The Reaper," a terrifying warrior feared by those who dared speak his name. Dangerously handsome, a presence identical to the god of death, silver eyes like the crescent moon—but a mind dipped in madness. Isadora despises him, not just for stealing her away, but for thrusting her into his world of blood and chaos. He’s insane! But that’s only the cherry on top, his obsession is wicked. But when he touches her, mix emotions and desires stirs, can a madman feel something? Of course not! He's more inclined to kill her than succumb to his desires. He has this "Thirst" and it triggers mostly toward her. Just a kiss is a clear invitation toward death and when he touches her... she might greet the god of death soon. Have the gods damned her again? They had thrown a Dark Fae toward her way who's obsessed with owning her soul. But in life, only a mate can claim another soul. ~ (Excerpt) "What do you even want from me?" Isadora asked, this time more desperate. "The answer to that question, love," he leaned more until their lips almost touched. "I really wish there was one," he murmured, before crashing his lips against hers. Sparks surged through her in waves, but she bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The action seemed to make him stop and she pushed away from him. Kraven licked his lips, amused and a maddening look in his eyes. "Go away!" she yelled at him, tears almost building in her eyes. Why was he making her feel this way? Hatred burned through her veins and yet torn between this was an undeniable pull. "I will, love.." he replied with a dangerous edge to his tone and an eerily glow to his silver eyes. "If you can outrun me, first..." he added, taking a step closer and she instinctively took one back. "Run, Isadora..." he growled, his voice raw and animalistic, like a beast on the verge of unleashing wrath. "...run!" ~ A/N: This is Dark Romance, don't expect a sweet ML! Extra Tags: #darkromance #slowburn #blood&gore #morallygreyML #medieval #warriors The cover is mine!
Dy_zamite · 118.8K Views

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DISCLAIMER: This story is not owned by me. All rights belong to the original author and copyright holder. This copy is provided for offline reading purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and if the rightful owner requests removal, it will be taken down immediately. The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousands of people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket. If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death. No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way. Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain. Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh. As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him. That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped. “What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.” — He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds. Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
zarawang · 8.9K Views
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