I'm the Young Master's New Pet
After her father's gambling debts put a target on her back, Elara Vance is sold at a private auction to the most feared man in the city: Julian Blackwood, the ruthless heir to a dark empire. But Julian doesn't want a maid or a lover-he wants a "pet." Stripped of her autonomy and forced into a gilded cage, Elara must survive Julian's cruel games and shifting moods. As a dark attraction ignites, she realizes she is a piece in a much deadlier game of revenge. To survive, she must play the pet-while secretly planning to bring the Young Master to his knees.
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Chapter 1
The air in the Underground Cathedral smelled of damp earth, expensive cologne, and the metallic tang of fear. It was a place where morality came to die, a literal basement of the elite where human lives were traded like vintage wine.
Elara Vance stood on the raised mahogany platform, the harsh spotlight blinding her, making the sweat on her neck feel like ice. Her wrists were bound by a silk cord-red, for the "virgin" category. It was a cruel irony. She wasn't a virgin to the world's cruelty, only to this specific brand of hell.
"Lot 402," the auctioneer's voice boomed, smooth as velvet and sharp as a razor. "The daughter of a fallen house. High pedigree, untouched, and utterly desperate. Do I hear five million?"
Elara stared into the void of the audience. She couldn't see their faces, only the glint of their diamond watches and the glowing tips of their cigars. She was a ghost being sold to monsters. Her father's gambling debts had finally come due, and since he had no more gold, he had offered her skin.
"Six million," a voice drawled from the left.
"Seven," barked another from the back.
The bidding climbed with a sickening rhythm. Each number was a year of her life she would never get back. She felt her knees tremble, her breath hitching in her chest. Someone, please, let it be quick, she prayed. Let it be someone who just wants a maid.
But she knew better. In this room, men didn't buy maids. They bought "pets."
"Ten million," the auctioneer shouted, his excitement mounting. "Going once, going twice-"
"Fifty million."
The room went deathly silent. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. The voice didn't come from a bidder in the front row. It came from the darkness of the VIP balcony, a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated in Elara's very marrow. It wasn't an opening bid; it was an execution.
The auctioneer cleared his throat, his bravado momentarily failing. "Fifty... fifty million from the Blackwood suite. Going once... twice... Sold."
The gavel slammed down like a guillotine.
Elara was led off the stage by two silent men in black suits. They didn't speak to her. They didn't even look at her. She was cargo. They moved her through a labyrinth of cold stone hallways until they reached a heavy, reinforced steel door.
"Wait here," one of them commanded.
She was left alone in a small, dim room. The only furniture was a single velvet chair. Elara didn't sit. She stood in the center of the room, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Minutes bled into an eternity. Every sound-the hum of the air conditioning, the distant thud of a door-made her flinch.
Then, the door opened.
A man walked in, and the small room suddenly felt microscopic. He was tall, dressed in a charcoal suit that cost more than her father's house. His hair was black as a raven's wing, and his features were carved from cold marble. But it was his eyes that froze her-steel gray, intelligent, and utterly devoid of warmth.
Julian Blackwood. The "Young Master" of the Blackwood empire. The man the city whispered about in hushed, terrified tones. They called him the Ice King, a man who had dismantled his own rivals before he was twenty-five.
He didn't speak at first. He simply walked around her, his footsteps silent on the rug. He was a predator circling a wounded deer. He stopped behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. The scent of sandalwood and expensive bourbon clouded her senses.
"Fifty million is a lot of money for a girl whose father is a coward," he said, his voice a low vibration near her ear.
Elara found her voice, though it was thin and brittle. "I didn't ask you to spend it."
Julian moved in front of her, his hand reaching out. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look up at him. His grip wasn't painful, but it was absolute.
"You don't understand your position yet, Elara," he murmured. His eyes traveled over her face, lingering on her lips. "In the world outside, you are a Vance. In this house, you are a possession. You have no name, no rights, and no will but mine."
"I am not a slave," she hissed, her eyes flashing with a spark of the fire he hadn't yet extinguished.
A small, dark smile touched Julian's lips-a predatory expression that sent a shiver of pure terror down her spine.
"A slave is for labor," he corrected softly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her cold skin. "A pet is for pleasure. For discipline. For whatever whim I decide to indulge when the world bores me."
He released her chin and stepped back, looking at her with a terrifyingly clinical gaze.
"You will learn the rules soon enough. But for now, remember the price I paid." He took a step toward the door, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. The light caught the sharp angle of his jaw.
"Don't try to run, Elara. The gates are high, the dogs are hungry, and I have spent far too much on you to let you go so easily."
He turned to leave, but Elara took a desperate step forward. "Why me? There were dozens of girls there. Why did you pay fifty million for me?"
Julian stopped. He didn't turn around, but his shoulders went rigid. For a second, the cold professionalism of his aura flickered, revealing something darker, something ancient.
"You think this is the first time we've met, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Elara frowned, her mind racing. "I... I don't know what you mean."
Julian turned his head just enough for her to see the icy glint of his eye.
"You belong to me now, Elara. And I never forget what belongs to me."
He walked out, and the door locked with a heavy, electronic click. Elara rushed to the door, pulling at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. She was trapped. She looked around the room, desperate for a way out, when her eyes caught a small, black velvet box sitting on the table that hadn't been there before.
With trembling hands, she opened it.
Inside was a delicate, silver collar. It was beautiful, encrusted with small, brilliant diamonds. But as she lifted it, she saw the engraving on the inside of the band.
Property of J.B.
Suddenly, the lights in the room flickered and died, plunging her into total darkness. In the silence, she heard the faint sound of a speaker activating in the corner of the ceiling.
"Lesson one," Julian's voice echoed through the dark, sounding closer than it should. "In the dark, you have nothing but my voice to guide you. Put it on, Elara. Put on your collar, or I'll come back in there and put it on you myself. And I promise, I won't be gentle."
Elara clutched the silver band to her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked toward the door, then at the box. She could hear footsteps approaching outside-slow, heavy, and deliberate.
The handle began to turn.
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8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
9.3
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.
9.4
My husband of three years, Arthur Vanderbilt, came home smelling of his mistress's perfume and threw divorce papers on our marble kitchen island.
He demanded I sign away all rights to our assets for a five-million-dollar "severance," calling me a leech his family picked up from the suburbs to solve a temporary PR crisis.
When I refused and demanded my four percent equity in the Vanderbilt Group, he and his mistress, Serena, launched a vicious smear campaign. They planted false stories on Wall Street forums, accusing me of laundering money for an Eastern European crime syndicate.
They tried to force my hand with a check for five hundred million, which I tore up and threw in his face. To them, I was just a trophy wife they could easily discard.
They had no idea that the "leech" they so despised was the anonymous investor who had secretly bailed out their entire company three years ago, saving them from bankruptcy.
Their final move was to hire an actress to publicly accuse me of fraud in the lobby of the most powerful law firm in Manhattan. They didn't realize I was there to retain the firm's most ruthless lawyer. After security threw them out, I looked my replacement in the eye and made her a promise.
"Prepare for an FBI probe into perjury and corporate defamation."
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
✅ Chapters 1–19: FREE
🔒 Chapters 20 onwards: PAID
(Continue the journey of power, friendship, and discovery!)
8.0
The moon chooses a mate for its immortal king every century-and Arielle was never supposed to be the one.
A low-ranked wolf with no power, no status, her quiet life shatters the night an ancient mate bond awakens, pulling the ruthless Moon King straight to her doorstep. Bound by a fate neither can break, she's dragged into his world of blood-soaked laws, buried secrets, and an Alpha who believes destiny gives him the right to own her.
But Arielle is no prize-and the Moon King is about to learn that controlling her is easy... trusting her, and craving her, is not.
As enemies close in and the moon demands its price, desire turns lethal. Survival means surrendering to a love neither planned for-one that could rewrite their fated bond entirely.
Because the moon never makes mistakes... or does it?