LOGINAs if waking up in a strange room with a life that isn’t mine wasn't enough—now I have to have sex with a man I don’t even know.
A man who apparently hates his queen. What could possibly be worse than this? I bit my finger hard enough to hurt, trying to stop the panic crawling up my throat. My hands ran through my hair, again and again, like I could somehow brush the madness away. I sat down, stood up, sat again—but nothing worked. Nothing was calming me down. How could I even be calm in this situation? The women were gone. It was just me now—me and my raging thoughts bouncing off the walls. I’d told myself a thousand times this had to be a dream, but the more I said it, the realer it became. The feel of the silk against my skin, the cold air, the smell of flowers that weren’t from anywhere near my college dorm—it all screamed real. Finally, I sat back on the bed and buried my face in my hands. My eyes burned, but I didn’t let the tears fall. What was the point of crying? It wouldn’t wake me up. It wouldn’t fix whatever this was. No, I needed to think. I needed to figure out what the hell was going on. I angrily wiped my eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up. Enough sitting around. Enough panicking. I marched toward the massive double doors and shoved them open. The sound echoed through the wide hallway. Two guards standing outside immediately straightened, their backs snapping like rulers. They both bowed low. I just… stared at them. They were dressed in all black from head to toe. Their faces were blank—like carved stone. Their eyes were sharp, watching my every move. “What the…” I muttered under my breath, making a face that clearly said what the hell? When I stepped forward, they instantly fell into step behind me. I spun around. “Why are you following me?” One of them didn’t even blink. “King’s order, my Queen.” King’s order. I turned back around and groaned. “Fantastic. Just fantastic.” They didn’t answer. Not even a twitch. I sighed and kept walking. My bare feet were silent on the marble floor as my eyes took in everything around me. The palace—because that’s what it had to be—was enormous. Every wall was carved with strange symbols. Chandeliers sparkled above my head, and long curtains the color of blood framed tall windows. Every time I passed someone—a maid, a servant—they froze, bowed, and whispered “Your Majesty” before scurrying away. I had never felt so out of place in my entire life. None of them looked surprised to see me alive, but they did look terrified. My stomach turned uneasily. I walked for what felt like forever before stopping at a wide balcony that overlooked the world beyond. The sight hit me like a punch to the chest. A vast stretch of forest spread out below, endless and green. Trees so thick they looked like a living sea. Mist rolled over the canopy like waves, hiding whatever lay beneath. A shiver ran down my spine. I gripped the stone railing, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Think. You went to bed. You woke up here. That doesn’t just happen. But…maybe someone drugged you? Maybe this is some kind of experiment?” I laughed softly, but it came out shaky. “Or maybe I’ve completely lost it. Great. Perfect.” The guards stood a few steps behind me, still silent. It was unnerving—like being shadowed by ghosts. I turned to them. “Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Quick question—where exactly are we?” The taller one hesitated, then answered, “The Kingdom of Valnera.” I stared at him. “I’m sorry—what did you just say?” “Valnera, my Queen,” he repeated, completely serious. “Hidden deep within the secret forest.” I blinked at him. Slowly. “No, no—like… what country. You know, on Earth. France? Mexico? The freaking North Pole?” The other guard exchanged a glance with him before saying quietly, “We’re somewhere in northern Italy, my Queen.” Italy. Italy? I turned back toward the forest, my heart hammering. Then I turned to them again, my voice barely a whisper. “Oh my God,” I breathed. “I’ve been kidnapped.” They both stiffened, but I didn’t care. My hands were trembling so hard I had to clutch the railing to steady them. This couldn’t be happening. I was thousands of miles from home—in another country—with people calling me queen and talking about blood rituals and kings who hated their wives. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But before I could scream or ask another question, a deep, low sound rolled through the air. It wasn’t human. It was a growl. Not the kind a dog makes—this was deeper, darker. It rattled through the ground beneath my feet and crawled straight up my spine. I froze. The guards didn’t move. They just exchanged another one of those unreadable looks, like this was… normal. My gaze dropped to the forest below—and that’s when I saw it. A massive black wolf stood at the edge of the trees. My breath caught. It wasn’t just big. It was huge—easily twice the size of any wolf I’d ever seen in a documentary. Its fur shimmered under the bright sky, thick and dark, and its eyes… God, its eyes were golden. Intelligent. Cold. Watching. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. But then it moved. Slowly. Gracefully. And the people walking below? They didn’t even flinch. A few bowed as they passed it. What the actual hell. My heart jumped to my throat. I stumbled back from the balcony, shaking my head. “Nope. Nope. Nope. That’s it. I’m done.” Then, as if it heard me, the wolf turned its head—straight toward me. Its golden eyes locked on mine. And it growled again. The sound vibrated through my bones. I screamed. I didn’t even realize I had until the guards tensed. Without thinking, I spun around and ran back the way I came—bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor. I didn’t care if the guards followed or if I looked insane. I just ran. By the time I reached the room, my chest was heaving. I shoved the doors closed, pressed my back against them, and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. “What the hell was that?” I gasped, my voice shaking. “A wolf? A—no, that’s impossible. That thing was huge. People don’t—people don’t bow to wolves!” I pressed my palms to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m going crazy,” I whispered. “I must be going crazy.” I laughed again, a broken, desperate sound. “Right? That’s what this is. A mental breakdown. Hallucinations. Maybe I hit my head and I’m in a coma somewhere.” But the floor beneath me was solid. The air was cold. I could feel my heartbeat pounding against my ribs, and no dream had ever felt this real. My breathing slowed, but my mind didn’t. I stood and started pacing, muttering under my breath. “Okay. Okay, let’s think. Either I’ve been kidnapped, or I’m part of some super messed-up simulation. Or… this is real. Which it can’t be. Because there are giant wolves and blood-drinking kings and people calling me queen—” I broke off, staring at my reflection in a mirror across the room. The woman staring back wasn’t me. She had my face—but softer. Paler. Her eyes looked sadder. Her hair was long and perfect. And the crown of faint bruises around her throat made my stomach twist. “What happened to you?” I whispered. Silence answered me. For a moment, I just stood there, staring into that mirror, watching this stranger who looked like me but wasn’t. The air felt heavier. The walls seemed closer. Outside the window, thunder rolled. “What the hell is happening?” I whispered. My voice cracked, and tears I’d been holding back finally burned down my cheeks. “Where… where the hell am I?”Hazel’s POV My palm stung from the slap, but the sound of it cracking across his face was the most satisfying thing I’d felt all day since waking up in this life. His head snapped to the side. For one perfect second, the mighty King looked stunned—like he honestly couldn’t believe someone had dared. Then his expression twisted—rage, confusion, something dark—and he lunged again. Absolutely not. Before he could even blink, my knee shot up with perfect, furious accuracy. My foot connected with his balls. Hard. The sound he made—dear God. It was half-gasp, half-death rattle. His entire body folded, and he dropped to the side of the bed like a fallen tree, clutching himself as a deep groan tore out of his throat. Good. Serves him right. I scrambled backward, yanking the thick blanket up to my chin like it was armor. My chest was heaving, heart slamming against my ribs, skin still burning where his mouth had been. I hated that my body was shaking—and not just from anger. He sta
Hazel’s POV Before I could blink, he pulled me to him. One second, I was glaring at him; the next, my back hit the bed with a soft thud that sent a tremor through my spine. My gasp filled the silence. The silk sheets were cold against my skin, but his body hovering above me burned like fire. “What the hell—” My voice broke off when his hand gripped my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. His blue eyes were darker—stormy, dangerous, and full of something I couldn’t name. “You’ve always wanted this,” he said through clenched teeth. “And now that I’m giving it to you, you’re fighting me?” My heart pounded so hard it hurt. His words didn’t make sense. None of this did. I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, to push him away—but before I could even think, his lips crashed against mine. The world tilted. Every rational thought vanished. My mind went blank. It felt like someone had hit a switch inside me—like my brain stopped working and my body took over. His lip
For a full five seconds, my brain refused to process what I was seeing. No. No way. That couldn’t be him. I blinked once. Twice. My eyes didn’t lie. Standing before me—half-naked, skin lit by candlelight, muscles shifting under smooth golden skin—was my psychology professor. “Professor Nicholas?” I whispered again, my voice barely a breath. He turned fully now, blue eyes piercing into mine with a look so sharp it felt like a blade. But it wasn’t the gentle, kind professor who used to smile when I answered a question in class. This man’s gaze was cold. Hard. The same eyes, but with something cruel swimming behind them. My knees wobbled. “What the hell…” I muttered, staring at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Nothing made sense. My heart pounded so fast it almost hurt. The man I’d secretly crushed on for a year—the one who told me once that I “had potential”—was standing here, shirtless, in a king’s chamber, looking like sin and damnation rolled into one. His lips curved
The sound of the door opening nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. My heart jumped to my throat, and I almost screamed—until I realized it was just the women again. Only this time, they weren't empty-handed. Each carried something—a tray stacked with the richest food I’d ever seen, and several glossy boxes tied with gold ribbons. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread hit me, warm and buttery, so real it made my stomach twist painfully. But did I look like I had an appetite right now? “Your Majesty,” the eldest woman said softly, setting the tray on the table. “We’ve brought your meal, and your nightgowns. You are to choose one for tonight.” “Nightgowns?” I repeated, blinking. “For what?” Her eyes flicked to the others before meeting mine again. “For the King,” she said. “You’ll be meeting him tonight. Did you forget already?” My stomach dropped. “Meeting him?” My voice cracked. “As in—tonight? Like tonight tonight?” “Yes, my Queen. We’ll help you prepare when it’s time.” P
As if waking up in a strange room with a life that isn’t mine wasn't enough—now I have to have sex with a man I don’t even know. A man who apparently hates his queen. What could possibly be worse than this? I bit my finger hard enough to hurt, trying to stop the panic crawling up my throat. My hands ran through my hair, again and again, like I could somehow brush the madness away. I sat down, stood up, sat again—but nothing worked. Nothing was calming me down. How could I even be calm in this situation? The women were gone. It was just me now—me and my raging thoughts bouncing off the walls. I’d told myself a thousand times this had to be a dream, but the more I said it, the realer it became. The feel of the silk against my skin, the cold air, the smell of flowers that weren’t from anywhere near my college dorm—it all screamed real. Finally, I sat back on the bed and buried my face in my hands. My eyes burned, but I didn’t let the tears fall. What was the point of crying? It wou
When I opened my eyes again, I almost cried in relief. Almost. For one stupid, blissful second, I thought I’d woken up back in my dorm room. That all of it—the crying women, the silk sheets, the psycho lady in black—had been some vivid stress-dream my brain cooked up after one too many energy drinks. But then I saw them. I squeezed my eyes shut. Just breathe, I told myself. Just wake up. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Any second now, I’d open my eyes and see my dorm ceiling—the cheap plaster cracks, the glow of my laptop still sitting on my desk, my roommate snoring like a dying engine. I held my breath, counted to five, and opened my eyes. Still here. The same room. The same silken sheets. The same cluster of women staring at me like I was made of glass. “Oh, come on,” I whispered, running a shaky hand through my hair. “This has got to be the worst nightmare of my life.” “My Queen?” one of them said softly. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped, climbing off the be







