BETROTHED TO THE DEMON KING
~ Ducan: Demon King ~
My kingdom teeters on the edge of ruin, my race standing at the brink of extinction. The throne of Hell itself trembles beneath me, its power slipping from my grasp.
Only one salvation remains-
A maiden blessed by the gods, born once in a century. Pure. Untouched. Marked by fate to bear the seed of a king.
To reclaim my strength and bind the realms of Hell to my will, I must claim her. She will become mine-whether she surrenders in devotion or resists with every breath.
Her body will cradle my power. Her womb will secure my throne.
And once my eyes have chosen her... there is no escape.
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Chapter 4
Eleanor's p.o.v
"Won't you rest Eleanor?" Victor, my best friend and crush, asked seriously.
"Evil knows no rest." I answered in a labored breath then drew my bow and arrow closing one eye to get an accurate hit on the board.
"You have been training for the past ten years." He said as I dropped the bow and arrow on the ground with a glare.
"You have been doing that too, so don't make it sound as if I'm the only one doing my best to always stay fit and very well prepared." I spat.
"I didn't mean that, you know. It's good that you are prepared and always training, but I also think you are doing a little too much." He said annoying me.
As if him being good looking wasn't enough, he was now getting my attention with his voice only to distract me.
"Training for ten years isn't enough. You know that I have to avenge my father's death and kill the demon king." I answered with detest.
"I know and believe me when I say that I understand. Not only did he kill our chief, he exposed your secret and most people hated you and your mother for lying to them. But now that your mother is married to your father's brother who was her past lover, she is happy."
"Your uncle is a good chief, and your younger brother his son will soon take over when he reaches the age of eighteen. That's like in the next eight years to come, it's not that far. so everything is going to be just fine. It's not a bad idea to relax once in a while." He said then winked at me.
I smiled and quickly lowered my gaze to the ground. My cheeks were heating up and I felt shy. He truly was a good looking man. He had bright green eyes, long black hair and he was tall, taller than me. His built was amazing too.
"On a serious note though, you need to rest." He said softly.
I sighed then shook my head and walked past him.
No way was I ever going to rest. Since the passing of my father I began training with the warriors of our village and grew strong. I knew how to weld a sword and how to shoot an arrow.
In my cupboard was a bottle of holy water prayed for and anointed by the high priest of the capital city. I was going to destroy the Demon king even if it meant my own death.
I went into the house and gasped quickly, then covered my eyes. My mother was on my step father's lap making out with him.
It was usually like this and I was getting upset with her actions. She was never like this with my late father. Even the day he had passed away she cried in front of the people but once we were all alone, she wiped off her tears and went into her bedroom to smoke her pipe.
When my uncle came forward to take over the Chief positions, she was so excited because she knew he would take her as his wife to continue my father's lineage.
People also began to call her names but that seemed to un-faze her. My younger brother was soon born and he became my mother's favorite as well as the jewel of my family. Since he was a boy, he was the rightful successor to the chieftain throne. He was brave and loved by almost everyone, he did no wrong in their eyes and he was who most women of our village and capital wanted to get as a husband.
It was still funny how no one saw his arrogance and rudeness. He was prideful and I hated him a lot because whenever we were alone he would try to make a move on me and I found it disgusting.
"Cover up for the love of gods." I whispered softly.
"Just walk past us as if you saw nothing." My mother answered in what sounded like a moan.
I frowned then bit my lower lip. She was no longer the mother that comforted me whenever I was lonely and assured me she would never hand me over to the Demon king. She was a mother who wanted nothing to do with me and cared less.
"Mother, I'm hungry." Zara's voice called from outside.
I dropped my hand and watched as my mother quickly stood up and fixed her long dress while my step father pulled up his pants and fixed his clothes.
"You are hungry my young chief? Don't worry, mother has prepared something good for you." She said immediately he walked in.
He paused when he reached where I stood and looked at me from head to toe with a smirk.
"Mother, why don't you let me have my sister for a wife or at least a concubine? You said the demon king wants her for a bride because she is a blessed maiden right? If that's the case then why can't you offer her to me when I reach a marriageable age?' He asked as I glared at him.
"For a ten year old you are really disgusting." I spat.
"You little whore, shut your mouth!" my step father warned on top of his voice.
"Wife, see her disrespect." He complained.
She angrily walked to where I was and grabbed my hand dragging me to my room.
"What's wrong with you!" She exclaimed once we were all alone in my room.
"No mother, what is wrong with you?. Are you going to let that ten year old child speak that way to me?" I asked seriously.
"Is it his fault that he wants to suck on these!" She exclaimed as she touched my breast, roughly hurting me.
"Is it his fault that he wants to be the first man to drive his manhood into your untouched womanhood?" She asked, making me feel nauseated.
"You and those bastards are sick in the head!" I yelled on top of my voice as she raised her hand and slapped me across the cheek.
I stood there not flinching or reacting. Once in a while when she was furious with me she raised her hand. At first I used to cry, not because of the pain but because of the disbelief and sadness over her actions. But now I was so used to her that it didn't come as a surprise.
"If the demon king never comes to take you. You will be your brother's concubine. You want it or not." She said then stormed out of the room.
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7.8
When Sera Thorne discovers she's fated to Lucien Ashcroft-the vampire prince whose ancestor was murdered by her witch bloodline-she knows their bond is a death sentence. Centuries of war have made their clans sworn enemies, kill on sight, no questions asked. But as mysterious deaths mirror the ancient murder that started it all, Sera and Lucien must uncover the truth behind the conspiracy that destroyed their ancestors' love and shattered two worlds. With a traitor hiding in the shadows and their people demanding blood, can they solve a centuries-old murder before history repeats itself, or will their bond be the final spark that burns both clans to ash?
8.9
Three years ago, Corinna had been an orphan, taken in by an influential family to marry their comatose heir.
Then the groom woke up, and the vows curdled; he treated her like worthless, disposable trash.
After her car wreck, she lay bleeding on the asphalt while he cheated with the woman he truly wanted. Something in her snapped, and she asked for a divorce with numb, shattered calm.
After walking away from the marriage, her secrets unraveled-a top-tier heiress, a hacker beyond reach, and a once-in-a-generation healer.
Her ex came crawling back, begging, unraveling, and losing control. But it was all too late.
9.5
As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death-thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite.
When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell-the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate.
I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford-on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress-to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper."
Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty-every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane.
At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen.
Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd.
The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence-something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia.
For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation.
I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"
8.0
After divorcing my cheating husband, I thought I had found my savior in his powerful business partner, Cole.
For three years, he pampered me like a queen, building a perfect, golden cage of devotion.
But on the day I happily discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband's mistress.
"Elinor is just a convenient tool. If she gets pregnant, I'll fake a paternity test and annul the marriage so she leaves with nothing."
My entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to secure his position and protect the woman he truly cared about.
Before I could quietly escape, Cole orchestrated a brutal attack.
I was dragged into a dark alley, beaten until my ribs fractured, and my unborn child was violently ripped away from me.
As I lay bleeding out in the freezing rain, my heart shattered into dust.
I didn't understand how the man who kissed me every morning could coldly order his thugs to beat me to death just to appease his real lover.
They left me there to rot, thinking they had finally erased the naive fool who got in their way.
Three years later, the world still believes Elinor Marsh died in a tragic car accident.
But when Cole and his elite circle attend a high-profile Interpol reception, they don't expect the new Chief Liaison Officer to step onto the stage.
I am Helena Fu now, and I have returned to burn their empire to the ground.
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."
7.4
Standing on the edge of a limestone quarry in the pouring rain, I thought we were just having another family argument.
Then my mother, Ardell, screamed that I’d let the life insurance lapse, and my brother, Hakeem, stepped out of the shadows with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.
I told them I knew the truth—that Hakeem had cut the brake lines on my father’s car—but they didn't flinch. Instead, Hakeem shoved me hard, sending me tumbling into the abyss.
I hit a jagged ledge thirty feet down, the sound of my spine snapping like a dry branch echoing through the rain. As I lay paralyzed and broken, my mother watched from above, asking if I was dead yet, before Hakeem whistled for the starving wild dogs that lived in the quarry floor.
"Nature will clean up the mess,"
Hakeem said, walking away while the first set of teeth sank into my throat.
The agony was a tidal wave, but the rage was hotter, a nuclear hatred for the family that stole my future and the daughter I’d never see grow up. I died in that dirt, consumed by fire and teeth, wondering how a mother could choose a car payment over her own child's life.
But then, I gasped for air, sitting bolt upright in my old trailer bedroom. I looked at the calendar: May 12, 2014.
I was seventeen again, but I wasn't the same girl. Inside this malnourished body was the mind of a world-class trauma surgeon and the elite hacker known as 'Phantom.'
This time, I wasn't going to the quarry; I was going for their throats.