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Just hang on a little longer, okay?
Last Updated:
2025-08-02 23:18:49
Latest chapter
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King I’m choosing humanity over heartlessness!
Ava's POV I was still sitting in the cold, hard chair beside Eli’s bed, my hand wrapped tightly around his limp, unresponsive one, when my phone buzzed violently on the chair beside me. The harsh vibration, a sound of the outside world, cut through the profound stillness of the ICU room like a blade, a jarring, unwelcome intrusion. Damian. His name lit up the screen in stark, white letters, cold and commanding, just like his voice, just like his presence. My heart, already a fragile, broken thing, hammered against my ribs, a new kind of terror seizing me. I let it ring for a second, my thumb hovering uncertainly over the decline button, a desperate, childish impulse to shut out the world, to hide in this sterile, silent space. But I answered. I knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that declining the call would only make the inevitable fury worse. “…Hello?” My voice was a raw, cracked whisper, a fragile sound stripped of all its strength by exhaustion and grief. “Where the fuck are
Contract Marriage To The Alpha King Just hang on a little longer, okay?
Ava's POV The jarring ring of my phone sliced through the mundane routine of my morning commute, a harsh, unwelcome sound that broke the rhythm of the city. I was on my way to the office, distracted, my mind replaying the cold, empty silence of the mansion and Damian’s parting words, sipping the lukewarm, bitter coffee that I had forced myself to buy. Bia. My heart seized in my chest, a cold, hard knot of dread. Something in me, some deep, primal instinct, knew before I even answered. The name on the screen was a harbinger of a different kind of storm. “Hello?” My voice trembled, a fragile sound that belied the frantic terror seizing my insides. Bia didn’t speak at first. Just the sound of heavy, ragged breathing on the other end of the line, a sound of profound distress that mirrored the one I could feel building in my own chest. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tragedy. Then—“Ava… it’s Eli. His condition… it got worse. Much worse.” The world tilted on its axis, and
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
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