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Claimed by the vampire prince

Content Warning: Contains mature themes that may be unsuitable for underaged readers. Excerpt Ragnar finally looked up. His eyes roamed her face, then dropped lower and lingered just a second too long. “Careful, princess. Keep taunting me like that and I’ll start thinking you like our nightly sparring.” “And if I did?” Her voice was soft now. Almost playful. “Would you stop pretending that you don't like it when I challenge you?” He rose from his seat slowly until he stood toe to toe with her. “Tell me something, Circe.” She tilted her chin up. “What?” “If I kissed you right now… Would you slap me, stab me, or kiss me back?” Her breath hitched. “That depends.” “On?” “How good the kiss is.” A pause. Something hummed between them, something neither of them dared name. Ragnar’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Do you want me to find out?” She smiled, slow and wicked. “Make it worth the risk.” **** She was forced to marry the man who led the attack on her people. After her father is murdered, Circe is forced to leave her home and become a prisoner of the enemy. When she is taken to the enemy territory, she expects to be tortured physically in every way imaginable. But what she hadn't expected was for the vampire king to offer her up as a bride to his illegitimate son, the very same man that had her people slaughtered. It was a fate worse than torture. With her little brother's life on the line and with nowhere to run, Circe is forced to succumb to her fate. Right then she vowed in the name of her dead father to bring her husband to his knees. She would have her revenge, even if it meant destroying herself in the process. From the first time Prince Ragnar laid eyes on Circe, he knew she was going to be trouble. But trouble had never looked so intriguing. She was a puzzle he couldn't solve and that fact only drew him closer. Like a moth to a flame, she threatened to consume him. She would be his very own demise. Circe's presence in Lamora awoke something sinister, a malicious entity roaming the lands. From dusk till dawn, the streets of Lamora becomes engulfed in a strange fog and from within the voice of a woman can be heard. Anyone who wanders out at night when the fog comes, vanishes seemingly without a trace. Never to be found again. what happens when Circe's brother becomes a victim of this evil presence? What happens when Circe has no other choice but to team up with her husband, who she despises, in order to find the truth behind the disappearances and the evil magic plaguing their lands.
Blessing_Nwodo_16 · 330.1k Views

The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven

Meredith Carter was once the pride of her pack—until the Lunar Curse marked her as wolfless, unwanted, and a disgrace. Humiliated, abandoned, and rejected by her fated mate, she thought the Moon Goddess had forsaken her. But her curse came with a cruel side effect—wild, uncontrollable pheromones that drove men insane with desire and disgust. A scent so intoxicating, it made her a target. The night she was cast aside when her pheromones spiralled beyond control, Alpha Draven Oatrun—the most feared and untouchable Alpha in the kingdom—claimed her instead. But Draven doesn’t want love. He doesn’t even want her. His reasons for marrying her have nothing to do with fate. Thrust into a world of ruthless politics, deadly enemies, and a mate who sees her as nothing more than a pawn, Meredith must fight to survive, reclaim her dignity, and uncover the secrets behind her curse. Because something is awakening inside her. Something powerful. Something… ancient. And when the truth is revealed, not even Alpha Draven will be able to resist what she becomes. Rejected. Cursed. Desired. Chosen. Will Meredith break free from her fate? Above all, what is this mystical force pushing her to start a war? — Excerpt: "You may have claimed me," Meredith whispered, her violet eyes burning with defiance, "but you will never own me." Draven exhaled a low, dangerous laugh. His golden eyes gleamed as he caged her in, his presence suffocating. "Own you?" His voice was velvet and steel. "Little wolf, I don’t need to own you." He brushed a strand of silver-white hair behind her ear—a touch so light, yet it sent shivers down her spine. "Because whether you like it or not…" His breath ghosted against her skin. "Your body already responds to me." Meredith clenched her jaw, ignoring the traitorous warmth pooling deep inside her. It was the pheromones. It had to be. "I hate you," she forced out. “Good,” Draven smirked. Because hate was just another form of obsession.
Paschalinelily · 2.3m Views
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Sinbad Of The Seven Seas

The sound of waves hitting a wooden hull fills the air. You catch the faint smell of salt and old parchment. A man’s voice, deep and magnetic, carries a weariness that no amount of sleep can erase. He speaks to you, but it feels like he’s thinking out loud, his words flowing like the scotch in his hand. Do you want to hear about the legend? Fine. Forget the songs. They tell stories about the king, the founder, the man who raised a kingdom from the sea with his bare hands. They don’t tell about the boy who held his mother as she turned to dust in a South Blue sickbed. He begged a god he didn’t believe in for a cure that never came. They don’t mention the salaryman’s ghost in his head, shouting that he’s a fraud in a conqueror’s body. I wanted to create a place where actions mattered. Not your name, not your blood. Sindria was meant to be that. A dream. I gathered giants, cooks, scholars, orphans, and monsters. I loved them. I used them. I felt the waves of potential, and I led us right into them. Linlin… her desire for a family empire, and the child we made that I didn’t know about until it was too late. Kaido, that angry boy I rescued from chains, who I taught that strength was everything… and who looked at my kingdom and called it weak. I have this feeling, a gut instinct pulling me like a tide. I built an empire on it. I charm queens and sink fleets with a smile because I see the moves before they happen. But here’s the twist the universe plays on a “chosen one”: you begin to realize the script was written before you picked up the pen. Every betrayal I see coming, every heart I shatter, every monster I create… it feels less like brilliance and more like I’m just reading my lines. I was so eager to matter in this life that I might have built my own prison. This is the true story. Not a legend being born. It’s the slow, bloody, beautiful, and cursed journey of a man waking up to the fact that a second chance just means you get to make bigger, more impressive mistakes. That the family you build might break along the very cracks you created in them. So, do you still want to sail with me? It’s not too late to find a saner captain. The sea is wide. But if you’re staying… pour yourself a drink. The story is long, and the dawn is a liar.
Jabari_Taylor_2643 · 2k Views