The wind whispered secrets through the trees as twilight deepened across the land. Lantern moths blinked lazily in the dusky air, casting a faint shimmer over the undergrowth. Liora's boots sank into the damp forest floor as she pushed past a curtain of vines, her satchel bouncing lightly at her hip. She didn't know exactly when she had crossed the border. The human realm ended at the river Veil-yet somewhere along the way, her pursuit of the silver-leafed herb had carried her past it. She should have turned back the moment the air thickened, the light dimmed, and the silence grew unnaturally still. But curiosity was her weakness-and the forest beyond the Veil, they said, held magic unlike anything known to humans. Liora paused in a clearing where moonlight broke through the trees, illuminating the world in pale silver. She knelt beside a bed of dark moss, her fingers brushing over a glimmering silver fern. "There you are," she whispered. As she reached for her shears, a voice-low and rich like velvet soaked in wine-cut through the stillness. "You do not belong here, little human." Liora froze. She stood slowly, breath catching in her throat. Across the clearing, leaning against a blackened tree with ancient runes carved into its bark, stood a figure cloaked in shadow. The man-or rather, the being-was tall and lean, dressed in a high-collared black tunic embroidered with crimson thread that shimmered like fresh blood. His long hair, the color of midnight, fell around his shoulders in gentle waves. Twin horns curved from his temples, sharp and elegant, as though sculpted from obsidian. But it was his eyes that held her captive-deep red, glowing faintly like embers. Liora swallowed. "I didn't mean to cross over," she said carefully, voice trembling. "I was only looking for something to help a fevered child. I didn't realize I'd gone too far." The demon tilted his head. "And if I said the punishment for crossing into our realm... was death?" She met his gaze-nervous but defiant. "Then I suppose I'd ask you to make it swift." A long silence fell between them. The forest, impossibly quiet before, now held its breath. Then-he laughed. A slow, amused sound, low in his throat. "You're brave," he murmured. "Or foolish." "Both, maybe," she replied, her grip tightening around the satchel strap. "But I don't believe you'll kill me." "Why?" he asked, stepping forward. The shadows clung to him like silk, reluctant to let him go. Liora's heart thudded as he came closer. "Because... you're still talking." That seemed to surprise him. For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes-something that almost looked like curiosity. Azrael, the Demon Prince of the Crimson Flame, regarded the girl standing barefoot among the glowing ferns, her cloak torn and her braid half-undone. She wore a simple dress-cream linen stained with soil and sweat, cinched at the waist with a leather belt. Not the garb of a warrior. Not the scent of a liar. "You're lucky," he said at last, voice cool. "Any other demon would have torn you apart by now." "Then it's a good thing I found you instead." She gave him a shaky smile. His lips curled faintly. "You don't even know who I am." "No," she said, honest. "But I know you didn't kill me when you could have." Another pause. Then, slowly, he extended a hand toward her. "Leave," he said. "And do not return. The next creature you meet here will not hesitate." She stared at his outstretched hand but didn't take it. "What's your name?" The glow of his eyes deepened. "Azrael." Her breath caught. She'd heard that name in whispered stories told to frighten children. The Crimson Flame. The merciless prince. The fireborn executioner of the Demon Court. Liora took a small step back-but then bowed slightly, her braid falling over her shoulder. "Thank you, Azrael," she said, voice soft. He watched her turn and disappear into the trees, her presence lingering like the faint scent of jasmine. For the first time in a century, Azrael stood alone in the forest with his heart not entirely still. The girl had looked at him-not with terror, but something else. Something dangerous. Something he knew he should forget. And yet... he couldn't.
The wind whispered secrets through the trees as twilight deepened across the land. Lantern moths blinked lazily in the dusky air, casting a faint shimmer over the undergrowth. Liora's boots sank into the damp forest floor as she pushed past a curtain of vines, her satchel bouncing lightly at her hip.
She didn't know exactly when she had crossed the border.
The human realm ended at the river Veil-yet somewhere along the way, her pursuit of the silver-leafed herb had carried her past it. She should have turned back the moment the air thickened, the light dimmed, and the silence grew unnaturally still.
But curiosity was her weakness-and the forest beyond the Veil, they said, held magic unlike anything known to humans.
Liora paused in a clearing where moonlight broke through the trees, illuminating the world in pale silver. She knelt beside a bed of dark moss, her fingers brushing over a glimmering silver fern.
"There you are," she whispered.
As she reached for her shears, a voice-low and rich like velvet soaked in wine-cut through the stillness.
"You do not belong here, little human."
Liora froze.
She stood slowly, breath catching in her throat. Across the clearing, leaning against a blackened tree with ancient runes carved into its bark, stood a figure cloaked in shadow.
The man-or rather, the being-was tall and lean, dressed in a high-collared black tunic embroidered with crimson thread that shimmered like fresh blood. His long hair, the color of midnight, fell around his shoulders in gentle waves. Twin horns curved from his temples, sharp and elegant, as though sculpted from obsidian.
But it was his eyes that held her captive-deep red, glowing faintly like embers.
Liora swallowed. "I didn't mean to cross over," she said carefully, voice trembling. "I was only looking for something to help a fevered child. I didn't realize I'd gone too far."
The demon tilted his head. "And if I said the punishment for crossing into our realm... was death?"
She met his gaze-nervous but defiant. "Then I suppose I'd ask you to make it swift."
A long silence fell between them. The forest, impossibly quiet before, now held its breath.
Then-he laughed. A slow, amused sound, low in his throat.
"You're brave," he murmured. "Or foolish."
"Both, maybe," she replied, her grip tightening around the satchel strap. "But I don't believe you'll kill me."
"Why?" he asked, stepping forward. The shadows clung to him like silk, reluctant to let him go.
Liora's heart thudded as he came closer. "Because... you're still talking."
That seemed to surprise him. For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes-something that almost looked like curiosity.
Azrael, the Demon Prince of the Crimson Flame, regarded the girl standing barefoot among the glowing ferns, her cloak torn and her braid half-undone. She wore a simple dress-cream linen stained with soil and sweat, cinched at the waist with a leather belt. Not the garb of a warrior. Not the scent of a liar.
"You're lucky," he said at last, voice cool. "Any other demon would have torn you apart by now."
"Then it's a good thing I found you instead." She gave him a shaky smile.
His lips curled faintly. "You don't even know who I am."
"No," she said, honest. "But I know you didn't kill me when you could have."
Another pause. Then, slowly, he extended a hand toward her.
"Leave," he said. "And do not return. The next creature you meet here will not hesitate."
She stared at his outstretched hand but didn't take it. "What's your name?"
The glow of his eyes deepened.
"Azrael."
Her breath caught. She'd heard that name in whispered stories told to frighten children. The Crimson Flame. The merciless prince. The fireborn executioner of the Demon Court.
Liora took a small step back-but then bowed slightly, her braid falling over her shoulder.
"Thank you, Azrael," she said, voice soft.
He watched her turn and disappear into the trees, her presence lingering like the faint scent of jasmine.
For the first time in a century, Azrael stood alone in the forest with his heart not entirely still. The girl had looked at him-not with terror, but something else.
Something dangerous.
Something he knew he should forget.
And yet... he couldn't.
Fearful express Her heart pounded in hee chest, cold sweat trickled down her back. Her eyes were wide with terror. Her face turned ashen drained of color. "Pl-please don't kill me" She whispered, her voice trembling. ****Description*** The room was shrouded in a thick, velvety darkness, the only sound the soft hum of jazz music drifting through the air. The scent of cigar smoke lingered, heavy and rich, like the promises made within these walls.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”
Rena got into an entanglement with a big shot when she was drunk one night. She needed Waylen's help while he was drawn to her youthful beauty. As such, what was supposed to be a one-night stand progressed into something serious. All was well until Rena discovered that Waylen's heart belonged to another woman. When his first love returned, he stopped coming home, leaving Rena all alone for many nights. She put up with it until she received a check and farewell note one day. Contrary to how Waylen expected her to react, Rena had a smile on her face as she bid him farewell. "It was fun while it lasted, Waylen. May our paths never cross. Have a nice life." But as fate would have it, their paths crossed again. This time, Rena had another man by her side. Waylen's eyes burned with jealousy. He spat, "How the hell did you move on? I thought you loved only me!" "Keyword, loved!" Rena flipped her hair back and retorted, "There are plenty of fish in the sea, Waylen. Besides, you were the one who asked for a breakup. Now, if you want to date me, you have to wait in line." The next day, Rena received a credit alert of billions and a diamond ring. Waylen appeared again, got down on one knee, and uttered, "May I cut in line, Rena? I still want you."
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
Five years ago, Alessia La Rosa's life took a drastic turn when, suffering from memory loss, she wed to Dominic Carter under her grandfather's mysterious arrangement. But their marriage was a facade, bringing her only humiliation and heartache as Dominic showed no love, and she couldn't conceive. Upon discovering Dominic's infidelity, Alessia sought liberation through divorce. Yet, fate had more in store for her. Five years later, spurred by an anonymous email hinting at her lost child's whereabouts, she returns to the city with her twin babies in tow, determined to uncover the truth. As she navigates the tangled web of her past, a surprising twist awaits. Dominic, upon meeting her again, finds himself drawn to the woman she has become, unaware of her true identity as his former wife. Little does he know, the woman he's falling for is not only his ex-wife but also a powerful Doctor and Master Hacker.
Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"