The Tyrant's Only Perfumer Novels & Stories

She immediately told him that there was no one like that so he urged her to relax for a bit. He took out a bottle of perfume from his bag and said, "this is channel number three. One of the most expensive perfumes in the world. I want you to smell just as amazing as you look but more than that, I want you to smell like me." Tanya let him spray the perfume on her clothes. She marveled at the pleasant fragrance and knew that today, she was going to attract a lot of attention like always but it wouldn't be for the wrong reasons anymore because some of the students were going to be envious of her new look.

“I need a perfume, Scarlet woman, that’s the name.” “Okay. Do you–?” “Don’t ask any more questions Tiana,” I cut her off before she could finish whatever she was about to say. “Just get me the damn perfume.” “Okay sir.” she answered and then immediately added. “I’m looking it up right now and there’s only one bottle released. And unfortunately, It’s already sold out, sir.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my fingers. “Just get the damn perfume, Tiana. That’s what I said.”

Arniel replied, he was nervous because the Tyrant had been quiet. "Did you know that there's something sweet about death?" the Tyrant mumbled. "I d-on't know, Master," Arniel said tremblingly. "Of course, because there is no—" A loud gunshot rang out as Arniel's body fell on the floor "Sweet about Death." The Tyrant mumbled then blew the smoke that came from the gun. "Isn't that what you want master?" It was Ino. "Yes, but not anymore. I realize that she has already suffered enough— And I considered her as my daughter after all" Tyrant replied then lit a cigarette "But she chose to run away and leave me— I could do nothing if that was what she chose."

I looked down between my spread thighs and the sight nearly undid me. Luciano Zarkov — the Tyrant, the conqueror, the man who ruled an entire continent — was on his stomach between my legs, broad shoulders keeping my thighs open, his dark head bent as he devoured me with slow, deliberate hunger. His storm-gray eyes flicked up to meet mine, dark with lust, and the eye contact alone made fresh slick gush out of me. He licked it up greedily. “Delicious,” he murmured against my pussy, voice rough and low. “You’re soaking my tongue, little mate. So eager.”

Chapter 4: The Masquerade The black diamonds felt like a cold, heavy collar. Elena stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the east wing, her fingers trembling as she wrestled with the platinum clasp. The stones were a deep, obsidian hue—darker than the shadows pooling in the corners of the room. They didn’t sparkle with the cheerful light of white diamonds; instead, they seemed to absorb the room’s glow, much like the man who had gifted them to her.

Marc instinctively glanced at Molly, who remained silent and uninterested. Upon hearing that, she didn't even bat an eyelid. It somehow gave Marc a stifling feeling. He looked down at Lula and stiffened. The air was heavy with Lula's perfume, something not as pleasant as Molly's subtle scent. He felt an itch in his nose and wanted to sneeze. "Sorry, I can't drink anymore. Miss Harriet, forgive my earlier words," Lula said daintily. Harriet, nestled in Delbert's arms, observed her with a cold stare.

I was a wolfless daughter, unwanted by my pack and ignored by my father. On my eighteenth birthday, he finally gave me a gift: a death sentence. I was chosen to become the eleventh bride of Tyrant Conri, the Alpha King feared by the entire realm. Ten wives had entered his palace before me. Ten had died, torn apart by the tyrant’s own hands. But before I could be sent to his bed, I was attacked in a dark alley—and saved by a stranger with burning green eyes. He touched me. Kissed me. Marked me. Then vanished before the bond could be completed. Now I am trapped in the palace of the monster king, wearing the title of his bride, while my body still remembers the man from the alley. I don’t know

Not unless it was for a claiming ceremony. The rumors about Giselle were a smokescreen. A story I crafted so I could walk through the one door in the entire North that I needed to open. The night of the Blood Moon finally came. Torin led his men into the quarters, heading straight for the third row, seventh room. The moment he pushed the door open, a scent hit him. It was an indescribable aroma—delicate and sweet, yet tinged with a hint of bitterness. Most importantly, it was a scent that made his own wolf spirit tremble.

After all, he was aware how much his mother detested Claire for all the beating he got from Hunter because of her at his grandparents' anniversary party. "Mom, I—" Tyler languidly began to turn. "Is a woman's, I know. Don't worry, I won't ask you her name. Just do me a favor though. Get me the same fragrance. I like the after-inhalation feeling. Makes me feel fresh... Like standing in a field of flowers." Tyler was stunned seeing Tia teasingly grin at her. She probably thought it belonged to a woman he was currently seeing. Although it made his belly churn, he returned her smile.

For now, she was off-limits. With her hair in an up-do elegant style, sculpted around her head, and with a few loose strands framing, her sweet face was like an icon I worshiped. Her sweetness far exceeded her perfection and the closer she got, the more enticing aromas of freesia and orchids drove my nostrils insane. It was as if an entire flower garden was unfolding before my eyes, allowing me to enter and get drunk with their scent. And in the middle of that garden was her, Teresa, fitting into a perfect frame. Now I knew that this perfume was something that I would always crave for.