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2025-06-11 23:25:14
Latest chapter
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “Smile tonight. Be the perfect wife."
Ava’s POV The morning sun bled through the tall, arched windows of the master suite, casting long, accusing spears of gold across the polished marble floors. It was a beautiful, serene light, a cruel mockery of my inner state. Outside, the world was waking up, a pristine and perfect tableau. Inside, I was in ruins. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, a trembling statue in a room of cold opulence, trying not to look at my reflection too closely. My eyes were still swollen from crying, no matter how much cold water I’d splashed on my face, a futile attempt to erase the night's events. The delicate skin beneath them was a roadmap of my pain, the puffiness a stark reminder of the tears I hadn't been able to stop. My bottom lip was cracked, a small, dark line where he had bitten it. The bruises on my wrists—faint but visible, a pale violet against my skin—glared at me like accusations, silent witnesses to my captivity. I tucked them beneath the long, elegant sleeves of the pale
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You should have run.
Ava’s POV The door to the bathroom shut behind him with a soft, final click, a sound that resonated in the hollow space he left behind. I lay there, motionless, my body a leaden weight, my arms sprawled uselessly at my sides, the sheet half-draped over my bare, bruised skin, a pitiful attempt at modesty. Everything ached. A deep, pervasive soreness had settled in my bones, a constant, physical reminder of the night’s brutal lessons. The raw sting of the metal cuffs was still carved into my wrists—angry red welts throbbing with every faint pulse, a testament to my futile struggle. My thighs felt heavy, sore, like leaden anchors, and the dull, burning ache between them reminded me with cruel, agonizing precision of everything he’d done to me, of the violent, primal claim he had made. The pillow beneath my head was a cold, damp patch. From tears, though I hadn’t even noticed they’d been falling, a silent, unending river that had escaped my control. I blinked at the intricate pattern
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King “Your hatred means nothing to me. Your fear… that is useful. Your brokenness… that is the goal.”
Damian’s POV The cuffs rattled again, a jarring symphony of steel and desperation, as she pulled instinctively against them, a fragile bird thrashing against its gilded cage. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts beneath me, ragged gasps that tore at the silence of the room. Her eyes—wide, wild, glassy with unshed tears and a primal, unadulterated terror—darted frantically between my face, a mask of unyielding intent, and the gleaming chain that stretched taut above her head, as though even now, in this absolute moment of capture, she was still searching for an escape route, a sliver of hope. There wasn’t one. Not anymore. There never truly had been. I dragged my fingers down her bare ribs, feeling the delicate tremble of her flesh beneath my touch, leaving faint, red lines in their wake—a temporary brand, a precursor to the deeper marks I intended to leave. I savored the way her entire body shivered, a tremor that rippled through her, signaling her unwilling submission. “You
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You wanted to test me, little wolf?
Damian’s POV Her silence when I told her to undress was deafening, a stark contrast to the furious roar of my own blood in my ears. It wasn't the silence of defiance, not truly, but a fragile, terrified stillness. Her hands, though trembling visibly, moved slowly, reluctantly, to the delicate buttons of her blouse. One by one, each button released felt like a small, agonizing victory, a concession wrung from her unwilling spirit. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not nearly. Her defiance still lingered in the air, a subtle, almost imperceptible scent that mingled with her fear. Even as she stood there, stripped down to nothing but her thin lace underthings—a delicate, almost transparent barrier against my gaze—her eyes were still bright with unshed tears, glistening like polished stones. And in their depths, I could still discern it: that little spark of rebellion, that infuriating unwillingness to fully submit, to truly break. It infuriated me. A hot, sharp surge of rage that clawed at
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King Take your clothes off, Ava!
Damian's POV “You needed air,” I repeated mockingly, my voice laced with venom, my hand shooting out to grip her chin hard, forcing her face up, tilting it brutally to meet my gaze. “Or you needed another man to breathe for you, to tell you you weren’t mine, to offer you a false freedom?” Tears welled in her eyes, glistening, spilling over and tracing paths down her pale cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Her gaze, though brimming with terror, held a stubborn defiance, a spark of the wild wolf within her. I hated her for it—hated the resistance, hated the tears, hated the fact that she could still feel something other than submission. And yet, I admired her for it, for that infuriating, persistent spark that made her a challenge, not just a conquest. It was a dangerous, contradictory pull that always seemed to complicate my emotions when it came to her. My thumb brushed roughly over her lower lip, savoring the subtle tremor, before I finally let her go, releasing her chin with
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You think I won’t find out?
Damian’s POV I stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, my gaze locked on her retreating form. Each slow, deliberate step she took, her hand gripping the polished banister so tightly her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff with forced composure, did nothing to calm the raw, visceral storm that churned inside me. If anything, her pathetic show of resistance only fueled it, igniting a deeper, more primal rage. My jaw clenched so tight it ached, a dull, persistent throb. My knuckles still pulsed beneath the hastily applied bandage Ava had wrapped around them earlier—too tight at first, then trembling, hesitant, as she tried to fix the damage I had wrought. The rough, masculine scent of the office, tainted with the faint, metallic tang of James’s blood, still clung to my skin, a constant reminder of my unchecked fury. I hadn’t even bothered to bandage them properly after slamming that sniveling coward into the floor, hearing the sickening crunch of his jaw snapping under my
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