Unhinged:Taming Dante
Her words had stamped themselves onto my mind, much like the dancers’ feet etched their rhythm onto the marble floor.
Everything about the ceremony made me sick—the way Father smiled indulgently from his high throne, the way Mother sparkled beside him in her finest jewels, her expression glowing with pride. They looked every bit the image of royalty—poised, perfect, oblivious. The way the people laughed and danced and cheered, as if this day were meant for joy and not the quiet slaughter of their princess.
This alliance was not a union—it was a sacrifice. And I was the offering.
I hadn’t slept in days, haunted by faceless nightmares of the fifty-year-old Alpha they’d promised me to. The beas
Bab Populer