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Synopsis
Survival Game
Fast-Paced Plot
Third-Person POV
Intelligent
Warrior
Ruthless
Apocalypse
Kingdom Building
Weak to Strong
In her past life, Betony sacrificed everything for her family—only to be shoved into a freezing tidal surge by her ungrateful mother, cheating ex-boyfriend, and parasitic best friend. Reborn thirty days before the ocean swallows the world, Betony is done playing the dutiful savior. Armed with a secret spatial dimension ring and millions in liquidated assets, she secures a reinforced penthouse atop the highest granite ridge in the city—and prepares to watch her betrayers drown. But she isn't the only one preparing for the storm. Her neighbor, the elite and lethal Warrant Officer Zaid Macaulay, sees through her cold facade and recognizes her as his ultimate equal. As society crumbles, a ruthless power couple rises above the rising tides...
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DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 66: The Tipping Point
The tin bowl hit the pine floorboards with a heavy, hollow bang.Warm broth splashed across the worn leather rug, dripping onto Betony’s grey wool socks. The rest of the thin soup pooled around Toby’s bare heels, floating small bits of dried thyme and lard against the dark timber.Betony didn't move for three seconds. She stood by the low wooden table, her hands still extended in mid-air where she had set the bowl down.Toby sat on the sofa, his arms folded tight across his narrow chest, his chin tucked down into his collar. He didn't look at the mess on the floor. He stared directly at the hearth, his little jaw set in a hard, stubborn line."Toby," Betony said. She forced her voice to stay low, even, and smooth, swallowing the cold lump of disgust rising in her throat. She knelt down, her knee resting on the edge of the damp rug as she reached for the overturned tin. "You need to be careful. Food is hard to come by up here."T
Last Updated : 2026-10-05DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 65: Getting Rid Of One, Hosting the Other
The air in the seventeenth-floor hallway was stale, smelling of cold soot and damp wool.Betony was carrying an empty zinc water bucket back toward the service stairwell when the door to Apartment 17B unlatched. Susan stepped out into the corridor. Her eyes were bloodshot, her dark hair tangled in matted clumps against her forehead, her wool cardigan stretched loose at the elbows.She stopped dead when she saw Betony.Betony didn't alter her pace. She held the heavy zinc handle with two fingers, her face smooth, unbothered, as if she were stepping past a sack of spoiled flour left in the passage."You think you won, don't you?" Susan’s voice was dry, cracking on the consonants. She stepped sideways, blocking the narrow concrete walkway between the handrail and the wall. "You think because he locked the bolt on me, you get to keep him."Betony halted three paces away. She set the zinc bucket down on the cold floorboards. The met
Last Updated : 2026-10-04DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 64: Major Selman
The frost on the iron barrels didn't melt when the heavy machine guns fired; it turned to fine grey dust that blew back into the men's faces.Four hundred feet below the timber line, in the shadow of a sheer granite cliff known as the Devil’s Notch, twenty-two men in white canvas smocks hauled wooden crates of sixty-millimeter mortar shells up a forty-degree icefall. Their boots were wrapped in wire for traction. Every breath they dragged into their lungs came out as a thick, white plume that froze instantly into ice crystals against the collars of their heavy parkas.One young corporal slipped on the blue ice. His knees hit the frozen shale with a sound like dry firewood snapping, the wooden crate slipping from his numb fingers and sliding forty yards down the slope into the dark ravine below.A heavy leather boot slammed down on the boy’s collarbone before he could push himself off the ice.Major Marcus Selman stood over him. At fifty-
Last Updated : 2026-10-03DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 63: Dear Betony
The comms handset in Apartment 17B dropped from Susan’s fingers, swinging on its coiled black cord against the plaster wall.Zaid took the stairs five at a time. He didn't wait for the cage elevator on thirty. He didn't put on his fleece vest or grab his sidearm. He ran down the unheated concrete stairwell in his wool shirt and trousers, his heavy boots making a rhythm like thunder against the steps.When he slammed through the timber door of 17B, the air in the narrow living room smelled sweet and heavy, thick with the scent of boiled lard and warm corn meal.Toby was sitting on the carpet by the low table. His small hands were pulled up to his throat, his face dark red, his lips already taking on a faint, terrifying shade of blue. Each breath came out as a thin, wet whistle, his chest heaving against his cotton shirt as his lungs starved for air."Zaid!" Susan wept, dropping to her knees beside the boy, her hands shaking violently as she hovered over him.
Last Updated : 2026-10-01
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