LOGINA wave of ice-cold dread clouded her very soul, freezing the blood in her veins. No... Her mind screamed as the realization hit her like a physical blow. Why did he want her dressed in the purest of silks? Why did he want her body washed in expensive scents? No, she wasn't stupid. She had grown up around Carolina and her cruel friends; she knew exactly what this meant. He wanted to consummate the marriage tonight. He was going to claim her body, force himself upon a broken Omega, and complete the dark blood bond he had started at the altar.
No, she was too broken. She couldn't survive that.
Before she could even open her mouth to protest, Dominic turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving the doors to click shut behind him.
The moment he left, the maids immediately began to do exactly as he had ordered. They moved toward her like a well-oiled machine, their expressions blank but determined.
Her heart galloped to her mouth; it felt like they were coming closer just to murder her.
"No," she breathed shakily, shaking her head as she stepped back, plastering her back to the wall as if any second the wall would open and swallow her whole, and how she wished that was possible.
"No! Stay away from me! Don't touch me!" she screamed, shrinking further into the corner, pushing at their hands as they reached for her. She refused to let them touch her. She struggled with everything she had left, kicking and batting her hands against them, weeping hysterically as the panic reached a fever pitch. "Please, just leave me alone! I don't want this!" She pleaded with teary eyes, hoping that they'd show her some mercy.
But the maids didn't listen to her pleas. There were so many of them, their beta strength easily overpowering her weak, starved Omega body. They didn't hit her, and they weren't malicious like her family, but their grip was unyielding.
"Please, young lady, be calm," the head maid told her in a low, shushing voice, her hands firmly guiding her arms down. "Let us do our work. We do not want to be harsh with you, but you must cooperate. If you do not comply, it will cause a massive problem, and the Alpha King will not be happy. No one survives his anger. Please, just let us finish. It'll save us both. Please..." There was a tremor in her voice; in that moment, Rosalie realised they were scared too, and they didn't want to hurt her. They just want to save their lives.
And as this reality dawned on her, something crumbled in her chest. Her will to retaliate against them perhaps as she went dead silent like a wax statue.
Hearing the word King and remembering the terrifying power of Dominic Varkov, a cold, dead weight settled over Rosalie's chest. Of course, that man was the king here. And she had heard enough rumors about him to know that she won't be able to see the sun tomorrow. He might just kill her tonight. And even if she survived tonight, knowing his nature as per the tales, she'd be dead meat soon.
Dominic Varkov was known across the lands for his ruthlessness. He was cruel and merciless; he'd destroyed hundreds of lands and had killed thousands of men. Because of his cruelty, the Moon Goddess never gave him a mate. He was 32 years old and never had a mate, but now he married Rosalie forcefully. Goddess knows what he'd do to her tonight.
"Please, we are sorry." The other maid said, and her heart twisted in pain; she knew how they felt, because she had lived her life in their shoes. She couldn't let them get hurt because of her. Rosalie had no choice but to oblige. She stopped fighting, her body going completely limp as they stripped away the ruined burgundy dress she had worked so hard to stitch. They helped her into a massive, steaming marble bath filled with warm water and sweet, intoxicating floral scents as she hid herself with her arms. The warm water stung the raw rope burns on her wrists, but the maids gently cleaned the wounds, applying a soothing salve that stopped the burning. They washed the dirt and sweat from her skin, scrubbed her hair until it was pristine, and dried her with soft linens.
When they were finished, they slid a gown over her head. It was made of the purest, most expensive red silk she had ever seen. The fabric was incredibly thin, completely weightless, and cool against her bare skin. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it. The silk clung to the curves of her hips and chest, making her feel completely exposed, completely naked, and utterly vulnerable. They combed out her long hair, leaving it wet, soft, and silky, cascading down her back like a dark waterfall.
Once their task was done, the maids quickly gathered the ruined clothes and exited the room, locking the heavy doors from the outside.
The silence of the massive bedroom returned, thick and suffocating. Rosalie was sitting on the very edge of the grand bed, her small fingers gripping the soft sheets, her body trembling so hard that her teeth clicked together. She stared at the locked doors, her heart racing at an abnormal pace, fear boiling in her chest until she could barely breathe.
Her eyes darted around the magnificent chamber. There was a huge terrace just behind the net curtains. She walked over to the terrace, but as she stared down the railing, her breath hitched; she couldn't escape from there. She was on the top floor of the fortress. Caged. Maybe she could use something in the chamber as a weapon as she hurried back inside-
All of a sudden, the heavy brass lock turned with a loud, echoey click.
Her body stiffened instantly. The door swung open, and Dominic stepped back into the room.
He locked the door with perfect ease. Dominic slowly walked deeper into the room, his amber eyes instantly locking onto her shivering form in the red silk. The sheer intensity in his gaze made the air leave her lungs. As he approached, his large, calloused hands moved to the remaining buttons of his dark shirt. With a slow, fluid motion, he pulled the fabric off his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto a nearby chair.
Rosalie’s breath caught in her throat. She abruptly looked away, her cheeks turning a deep, fiery crimson as a blush of pure shock heated her face. But it wasn't desire, it was a paralyzing, breathless fear mixed with a sudden, overwhelming heat that flared in the space between them.
Even as she averted her eyes, she couldn't erase the image of his godly, muscular frame. His chest and abdomen were mapped with thick, heavy ropes of muscle, looking completely sculpted from dark marble. But what truly terrified her were the massive, jagged battle scars that crisscrossed his entire chest and back. They were thick, white, angry, and brutal, permanent reminders of the wars he had fought and the lives he had taken with his bare hands. He looked like death incarnate, a merciless brute covered in the history of his own violence. And now, that violence was walking straight toward her.
The intensity at which her heart was thumping, it felt like it would burst out of her chest any second.
The heavy thud of his bare feet against the rug signaled his approach. He didn't rush. He didn't need to. He was a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run.
Panic exploded in her brain. Rosalie immediately stepped back with each of his approaching steps, frantically trying to put distance between them. But he was faster. Infinitely faster.
Before she could even move an inch, his massive, calloused hand shot forward. His fingers wrapped around her raw, salve-coated wrist with lightning speed. With a single, effortless jerk, he yanked her directly to him.
A sharp gasp tore from her plump lips as her body flew forward. She crashed into his bare, solid chest. The heat radiating from his skin was blinding, scorching right through the thin red silk of her gown. The heavy scent of winter pine, snow, and old smoke rushed back into her lungs, completely obliterating the sweet floral perfumes the maids had washed her in. He was overwhelming. He was a furnace in the middle of her freezing nightmare.
"Let me go!" she cried out, her small hands coming up to press against his rock-hard chest as she desperately tried to pull back, trying to force some space between their bodies.
But it was entirely useless. Before she could even push against him, Dominic wrapped his massive, muscular arm completely around her waist. With a dominant, unyielding tug, he pulled her even closer, locking her hips firmly against his. They were pressed chest to chest, the thin, forbidden barrier of her red silk gown doing absolutely nothing to hide the frantic, terrifying racing of her heart against his solid ribs. She could feel every ripple of his muscles, every heavy, controlled breath he took. Her bosoms were squeezed against his chest to the point he could feel the pointed buds of her soft swells against his chest. She squirmed, but he was f*cking tempted by the feel of her bosoms squished against him as he jerked her closer, leaving no space between them at all.
He wrapped her long, silky hair in a fist and tugged her head back a little roughly, earning a gasp from her as her stunning jade eyes met with his sinister gaze. Her plump lips parted in a wince as he forced her to meet his eyes.
He leaned his head down, looming over her like a shadow devouring the light. His sharp, stubble-lined jawline was just inches from hers, and his amber eyes burned down into her soul with a dangerous, dark obsession that made her entire body go completely rigid.
His gaze lingered down, and the silk dress had a low neckline; her cleavage was on full display. those white creamy swells. He felt all the blood rush down to his groin.
Rosalie's lips were trembling violently, and fresh, hot tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks freely, soaking into the silk. She looked so tiny, so fragile, and so utterly broken against his beast-like frame. And oh God... to a monster like him, she looked completely tempting. The contrast of her pure innocence against his dark, towering violence was suffocating. It was an intoxicating poison, a raw chemistry that made the blood roar in his ears.
He let go of her waist and raised his hand, his large, rough thumb gently tracing the line of her trembling jaw, pinning her chin and forcing her face up so she had no choice but to look into the fire of his eyes. His gaze dropped to her mouth, his expression darkening with a primal hunger that made her heart cease to beat.
"You are my bride now, little wolf," Dominic whispered, his voice incredibly deep, a low, vibrating growl that hummed directly against her lips and made her entire body shake with fear. "And tonight... You are going to be mine by every single means."
The Demonic Witch had collapsed into ash, her soul shattered and her ancient body scattered across the frozen peaks, but the world did not burst into light. There was no gentle sun to celebrate her end, no sudden warmth to thaw the frozen valley.High above the crags, the pitch-black sky did not clear. Instead, the dark clouds churned violently into a bruised, terrifying purple, tearing open in a sudden, torrential downpour. Wild thunder shook the foundations of the mountain, and heavy, icy sheets of rain slammed into the blood-soaked pass. The water hit the ground with deafening force, washing rivers of crimson and black gore across the mud, turning the battlefield into a slippery, drowning nightmare.The abyssal beasts, deprived of their mistress, did not retreat or dissolve into harmless smoke. Driven into a mind-numbing, demonic frenzy by
The snow around Asher melted instantly into boiling steam under the sheer, unbridled intensity of his golden aura.Seeing Estrella writhing on the ground, he turned back to the Witch, channeling his supreme Alpha gold fire into his heavy broadsword until the steel hummed like a living storm. He lunged forward to slice the Witch's head from her shoulders in one definitive strike-CLANG!An invisible, impenetrable dome of thick, fluid abyssal magic snapped into existence around the Witch, deflecting Asher’s golden broadsword with a deafening, metallic explosion that sent sparks flying fifty feet into the air.The Witch was bleeding black, foul blood from her chest and mouth, weak and broken, but her defensive shield was anchored directly by her dark soul-fire. Asher
King Asher’s golden flames roared against the freezing mountain wind, painting the blood-stained snow in blinding, celestial light. He stood as a towering wall of raw muscle and steel, his broad, broadsword pointed directly at the wounded, bleeding monster embedded in the stone cliffside. His bare torso heaved with every ragged breath, his veins dark with the sheer volume of celestial magic he was forcing through his broad frame.Beside him, a ragged, breathless sound cut through the silence, a soft, metallic drag of boots against frozen gravel.Estrella stepped up to his right side. She could not shift; her wolf form was locked tightly behind the dark, dormant decay of the curse. Every single breath she dragged into her lungs felt like swallowing crushed glass and molten lead. Her hands trembled violently as she forced herself to raise her dragon-steel longsword, her knuckles turning bo
The vaulted subterranean chamber shook as if the earth itself were splitting at its seam.Pinned against the air by Morana’s thick, cosmic violet chains, the Demonic Witch shrieked, a sound so foul, raw, and high-pitched that it cracked the surrounding obsidian pillars into falling rain. The ethereal links burned into her scaled skin like molten silver, locking her limbs in place and neutralizing her dark flight."Release me, you ancient whore!" The Witch spat, her voice layering into thousands of echoing abyssal rasps as dark purple gore dripped from her scaled jaws."You had your era, demon," Morana declared coldly, both of her hands thrust toward the ceiling, her glowing violet aura burning like a dying star as she poured every ounce of her remaining sorcery into holding the binding. "Now face the King of the North!"As
The sky over the Northern border did not open with sunlight; it tore open like a dying wound.Just as the first pale light of dawn attempted to bleed through the mountain pass, a deafening, demonic war horn echoed across the icy peaks. The cold morning air instantly turned pitch-black as a colossal, rolling tide of shadow corruption swept over the pine forest."DEFEND THE PERIMETER!" Commander Garrett’s roar shattered the morning quiet, echoing across the frost-covered encampment.Before the vanguard shifters could even draw their steel, the forest line exploded.Thousands of dark, unnatural horrors poured out from between the freezing trees like an avalanche of nightmare flesh. Monstrous, six-legged shadow chimeras leaped through the snow, their obsidian claws rending the earth. Behind them marched endless ranks of skelet
A silent, shimmering violet rift tore open across the frozen, ash-strewn crags at the edge of the Western Wastes.King Asher and Witch Morana stepped through the spatial tear onto the dark, cracked earth. The bitter wind whipped across the jagged rock faces, carrying the suffocating stench of brimstone, dried blood, and ancient rot. The moment their boots touched the desolate soil, Morana raised her slender hand, her fingers weaving an intricate, soundless cloak of ancient glamour around her frame.In a single heartbeat, her glowing violet aura vanished into thin air. Her physical frame faded into the surrounding gloom, and her divine magical signature dissolved completely from the icy atmosphere, leaving her entirely invisible to any demonic senses that searched the crags.Asher stood alone at the edge of the high ridge, looking down into the vast, shadow-dren
Rosalie stood in the center of her cramped attic. Her eyes were fixed on the broken mirror in front of her. She has freshly showered, and her skin glows.Stepping out of her ragged clothing, she stared at the beautiful dress she had stitched out of torn dresses of Carolina.Rosalie put on the dress
Tears streamed down Rosalie's cheeks as she tried to free her arm from her mom's grip, but it was of no use.She dragged her to the tree near the woods. Rosalie panicked and shook her head violently, but Penelope didn't listen.She forced her against the tree and tied her hands with the ropes behin
The thick, copper taste of Dominic Varkov’s blood coated Rosalie’s tongue, a metallic brand that felt like a permanent iron shackle around her soul. The ancient incantations chanted by the trembling High Priest still echoed in the freezing night air, vibrating
The silence of the clearing was deafening. Thousands of eyes were pinned on Rosalie Ashford, but she only had eyes for Prince Cassian. There was so much pain in her teary eyes as she pleaded with her eyes, but he didn't offer her a single glance.The silver threads of the mate bond were still puls







