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He’s so cold. So empty.
Last Updated:
2025-06-26 18:48:20
Latest chapter
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King The Gown of Sacrifice
Ava's POV The gown lay on the bed like a silent, shimmering warning. Its pristine, ethereal beauty was a stark contrast to the churning dread in my stomach. It was made of pale cream silk, its fabric flowing like liquid moonlight, intricately woven with tiny pearls along the sleeves and delicate lace that cascaded like whispers. It looked like something that belonged in a fairytale, draped over a bed in a sun-drenched tower. But this wasn't a fairytale. This was a cage, exquisitely dressed in silk, waiting to snap shut. Today. It was today. The Mate Ceremony. The ancient, binding ritual that would irrevocably tie me to Damian Blackwood. Not in spirit, not in love, not in any form of genuine connection—but in law, in legacy, and in his absolute control. My stomach churned, a cold knot tightening with every beat of my heart. I stood frozen at the edge of the bed, the opulent fabric gleaming under the morning light filtering through the wide, arched windows of the guest suite. The
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King Be in the ritual chamber by ten, Damian.
Damian's POV The morning sun cut through the mansion’s tall, arched windows like blades of ethereal gold, harsh and blinding against the opulent, yet sterile, interior of my ancestral home. The dust motes danced in the unforgiving light, tiny, insignificant specks in the grand scheme of things, much like the emotions I ruthlessly suppressed. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my dressing room, adjusting the cuffs of my crisp, black tailored shirt, the rich fabric cool against my skin. The weight of the impending moment settled like iron across my shoulders, a physical manifestation of the immense burden I carried. Mate Ceremony. The words tasted bitter on my tongue, like ash and resentment. They felt ancient, primal, a stark contrast to the modern, calculated existence I had built for myself. I wasn’t one for tradition. Especially not the archaic ones my kind clung to with a delusional, almost fervent reverence. My father had largely ignored them, focusing on the cold,
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King He’s so cold. So empty.
Ava's POV The moment the front door clicked shut behind me, the soft, mundane sound resonated like a final, irrevocable sealing of my fate. I didn't even make it past the small entryway. My legs gave out, and I crumbled, the carefully constructed facade of composure shattering into a thousand pieces around me. My fingers, still shockingly cold, instinctively curled into a fist, pressing the engagement ring into my palm. It felt alien, heavy—a cold, hard symbol of something I hadn’t chosen, a bond forged not out of love or mutual desire, but out of desperation, cynical manipulation, and the brutal instinct for survival. It glittered, even in the dim light of the hallway, mocking my despair. I stood there in the narrow hallway, enveloped by the encroaching darkness, the silence of the apartment pressing in, almost painful in its stark contrast to the chaotic storm raging within me. My handbag, still clutched loosely in my numb fingers, slipped from my shoulder and hit the polished wo
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King So why the hell was I angry?
Damian's POV The echo of my footsteps filled the vast, marble hallway as I stepped into the suffocating silence of my home—if you could call this sprawling, empty mansion a home. It was more a fortress, a gilded cage of my own making, built for power and control, not comfort or companionship. Cold. Empty. Perfectly designed, down to the last, meticulous detail. Like me. I shrugged off my bespoke blazer, the expensive fabric sliding smoothly from my shoulders, and tossed it carelessly over the back of the antique leather armchair in my study. It landed with a soft thud, a muted protest in the oppressive quiet. The only light in the cavernous room was the amber glow emanating from the cut-crystal decanter on the antique bar cart in the corner. I strode towards it, the rhythmic tap of my shoes on the polished hardwood floor the only sound. I poured myself a generous measure of something aged, something sharp enough to burn the lingering taste of her voice off my tongue, to cauterize
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King That one’s too soft for you.
Ava's POV The boutique was immaculate. Every surface gleamed, reflecting the warm, golden light cast by the elaborate chandeliers suspended from the high ceiling like glittering constellations. Polished marble floors stretched out beneath my feet, pristine and cold, reflecting my own pale, exhausted reflection. Velvet-lined cases, meticulously arranged, formed elegant displays along the walls, each one a silent stage for rings that sparkled with an almost blinding opulence, their silent gleam whispering of impossible wealth, of generations of old money that bought beauty without effort. The air itself smelled faintly of expensive perfume, a cloying floral scent mingled with the subtle, distinct aroma of old money—a dry, almost metallic scent of privilege and power. I followed Damian inside, a single step behind him, keeping my chin lifted even as the sting of his cruel words from the car still echoed in the hollow cavern of my mind. His presence was commanding, effortlessly so, fil
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King You sold yourself, sweetheart. I just named the price. And you paid it.
Ava's POV The car door shut behind me with a soft, final click that echoed too loudly in the confined space of the luxury vehicle, a sound that resonated with chilling clarity in my chest. It felt less like a closing door and more like the sealing of a vault. Damian had already settled into the plush leather seat beside me, his long legs crossed with an effortless grace, one arm thrown casually along the backrest, as if this were any other mundane evening commute, a simple transition from one ordinary moment to the next. But nothing about this moment felt mundane. Every fiber of my being screamed that this was monumental, terrifying. The air between us was thick, heavy—charged with the electricity of things unspoken, of lines already crossed and countless more waiting to be drawn. I kept my gaze fixed on the darkened windows, my reflection a pale ghost superimposed over the blurring streaks of gold and steel as the city lights whizzed past. I avoided his presence as if I could pre
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