Stolen by the Rebel King
As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne's only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head.
She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.
King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.
Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus's ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone's imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.
No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.
However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.
In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.
―
[Excerpt]
"Now... where should I put you both?" he asked casually, not expecting a reply. "It's regretful that I only have one chandelier."
"Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don't deserve this," Atticus mused to himself. "The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over... Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?"
"Atticus!" Daphne screamed. "I don't want any heads! Let them go."
"Fair enough." Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.
There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.
Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.
"I told you to let them go!" Daphne cried out.
"Yes, I let them go," Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. "To receive divine judgment from the heavens."
Chapters
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Chapter 1
"Get your hands off of me! Where are you taking me?" Daphne struggled in the grips of her captors, shoving back against their hold. Unfortunately, her frail strength could not be compared to that of two fully grown men, who each held onto one of her elbows with an iron grip.
It was supposed to be her wedding day. She was prepared to suffer stiff muscles from sitting in a carriage for too long, ready to endure awkward conversations with her new, unfamiliar husband from a new, unfamiliar land. After all, as the only royal family member who could not wield magic, that was all that she was worth.
And the rest of the royal circle made sure she would never forget that.
Yet, she did not expect to be inelegantly snatched from her carriage and kidnapped to a land no one dared to set foot in. Vramid, with its numerous mountain ranges, frequent hailstorms, and deadly wildlife, was a death trap for the unprepared.
And now, the chilly winds and frightful storms outside the barren stone walls of the fortress reflected the scene exactly in Daphne's heart.
"Shut up!"
The guards promptly shoved her to the ground without further warning, causing her to cry out as her knees slammed against the hard marble floor. The skin on her hands burned as her palms slid across the floor from the strength of their throw.
"How dare you!"
The guards scoffed, unimpressed. They moved away without a single glance.
Daphne was a princess; she had never been treated so roughly in her life. The skin of her hands was now red with friction burns and her knees were bruised due to the impact. However, that was the least of her worries.
Right in her line of sight was a pair of polished boots. Daphne's eyes reluctantly trailed up, her goosebumps rising more and more by the second. A long pair of legs, a strong torso, a broad chest clothed in fine military wear― her heart stuttered as she registered a pair of dark amber eyes glaring down at her.
Even though his eyes were a warm color, the look he shot her was frosty. Her hair stood to its ends and her blood ran cold.
"Hello, princess," the man drawled in a deep voice, slow and sensual.
From where Daphne was, the man seemed to be towering over her, though she knew that wouldn't be far from the truth. He had a leg crossed over the other, the side of his head propped up by his knuckles as he smiled down at her.
His smile, paired with his dark cold eyes, caused Daphne to feel more threatened than if he were to immediately stab a sword through her heart. She heard rumors that the people of Vramid were ruthless, but this man seemed to be another brand of intelligently cruel, the sort that would give her a rope to hang herself with.
This was a man that liked to play with his prey.
"Hello," Daphne replied. She stood up shakily, trying to calm her racing heart. Her hand instinctively went to her opal necklace, preparing to shatter it to send out a signal for help once he was distracted.
"You seem to have me at an advantage. I do not know your name."
"Make an educated guess, princess. It's not that hard," he said mockingly. "According to the bards, the first princess of Reaweth was meant to be the wisest of all royalty. If you are the best they have to offer, your family must be as intelligent as a sack of rocks."
Daphne spluttered furiously, her fear was now accompanied by indignation at the insult to her family. If Daphne wasn't his prisoner, she would have given him an earful for his rudeness.
Instead, she could only settle for glaring hotly at him. She reminded herself to stall. She had the crystal, and her fiance would soon realize she hadn't arrived and send a search party out for her.
"Are you going to give me three guesses?"
"Do I look like an imp from a story, longing to steal your firstborn?" Now, there was amusement in his eyes. Daphne froze- this was a story read to children in Reaweth. She highly doubted it would spread all the way to Vramid.
How did this man know it? She eyed him carefully.
"I-"
Suddenly he stood up, towering over her. He was close enough that she could smell the scent of cedar and pine from his body. She instinctively tried to step back, but her legs couldn't move. It was as though they had been nailed to the floor with an unseen force.
"What are you doing?" Daphne wanted to scream, but the air was stolen from her lungs.
"Tsk, tsk. You're smart, Princess. I stand corrected. But not smart enough." The man's fingers gently stroked the soft skin of her cheek, before reaching for her chin, tilting it high enough that it was almost painful for her.
This close, she could see the gold flecks in his eyes. They were still terrifyingly cold, despite the amused smile on his face. He leaned closer, as though he aimed to kiss her.
"Don't-" Daphne frantically tried to push him away, but then she realized she made a fatal mistake.
The man's target wasn't her lips. It was her necklace.
Before she could grab it, he reached out and easily tugged the necklace loose from her neck. Daphne's neck burned from where the necklace was pulled free, staring helplessly as the crystal beads clattered loudly when it made contact with the cold marble floor.
"How..." Daphne's eyes widened in shock and fear. This necklace was a priceless gift from her sister, crafted with nothing but the best for royalty. It was supposed to be indestructible.
Yet... This man snatched it from her neck as though it was merely a cheap trinket from the market.
"This? This is nothing." He laughed, idly dangling the huge opal crystal in his hand right in front of Daphne's horrified face. "My apologies. Did you depend on this for rescue?"
"Give it back!"
"It was mine first." Before Daphne could figure out the meaning in his words, the man clenched his fist around the crystal and crushed it with his bare hands, seemingly delighted at Daphne's torment.
"You beast! Why have you brought me here," Daphne seethed, forcing the words out. Fear and raged war within her. Her eyes darted to the fallen shards of the crystal beads, now coated with a thin layer of the man's crimson blood.
"Well," he said with a lazy grin. Daphne watched as he leaned back into the throne. "To be my bride, of course."
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9.5
Alpha Lykos lives with a deadly curse: any woman who touches him dies on the spot. His pack fears him, and he has given up hope of ever finding a mate.
Until a weak, fragile girl named Aria stumbles into his territory and touches him... and nothing happens.
She is his mate-
but she is not meant to live.
Aria's life belongs to someone else, borrowed by an ancient spell. If the spell breaks, she dies. If the curse stays, she also dies.
And an enemy pack wants her because she is the key to awakening an ancient power.
Alpha Lykos must protect her, break the curse, and fight fate itself-before time runs out.
But the greatest danger is not the enemies hunting them...
It is the truth Aria doesn't know about herself.
8.6
Amara's life has always been predictable-until the shadows start watching her. Footsteps follow her on empty streets, strange chills scrape down her spine, and something ancient tracks her every move from the dark.
Everything changes the night a terrifying wolf-like creature lunges out of the darkness and leaves her fighting for her life. Just when all hope slips away, a mysterious man steps in-sleek, powerful, and gone before she can speak his name.
Haunted by the memory of his golden eyes, Amara begins to unravel a truth she never imagined. A creature in the night. A man in the shadows. A bond that defies logic. Her search for answers leads her to a hidden library and a forgotten article that exposes a world she was never meant to discover, one of magic, danger, and beings who walk between realms.
From the veil of the other world, Kael watches her. Her guardian. Her burden. The one fate bound to her long before she was born. And every day, the pull between them grows stronger... and harder for him to fight.
As enemies gather in both realms, Amara must face the darkness hunting her and the bond tying her to Kael. Because when shadow meets destiny, survival demands trust, courage,
and a heart willing to walk into the dark.
9.7
The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. But as Alpha King Damien Blackmoor stood before his entire kingdom and rejected his fated mate, he wondered if the goddess had finally lost her mind. Aria Thornwood was weak. Wolfless. Worthless. And the only woman destiny had chosen for him. Humiliated before thousands, Damien cast her into exile, choosing pride over prophecy. He told himself it was for the best. He told himself the Moon Goddess made a mistake. He told himself these lies for five years. Until the curse came. Until his kingdom began to die. Until the ancient prophecy revealed that only the True Luna could save them all.
Now Damien must journey into the wilderness to find the woman he destroyed and beg for her help. But Aria is no longer the broken girl he rejected. She has become something the world has never seen, a True Luna, more powerful than any Alpha in history. She doesn't need a king. She doesn't need a mate. And she is not interested in forgiveness. The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. Damien did. And winning back his rejected mate will require more than his crown. It will require his heart. Some bonds cannot be broken. Some kings must learn to kneel. And some love is worth any price.
7.4
Cadence, a modern botanist, woke up to a glaring sun and massive, alien purple leaves blocking the sky. She was stranded in a terrifying, primal world.
Before she could process the metallic smell of blood in the air, a white tiger the size of an SUV crushed a giant boar's neck right in front of her. The beast locked its piercing blue eyes on her hiding spot. But instead of tearing her throat out, a blinding flash of silver light erupted, and the monster transformed into a towering, heavily scarred naked man.
He was Harlan, a shifter who immediately claimed her as his mate under tribal law. Dragged back to his primitive village, Cadence faced a brutal reality. Unbonded females were targets, and she was expected to take multiple mates just to survive. The tribal women mocked her fragile frame, calling her useless. To make matters worse, her foreign scent attracted a rogue serpent-shifter who violently ambushed her in the river.
The icy shock of the serpent's attack plunged Cadence into a deadly, burning fever. The tribe's Shaman tried his healing magic, only to shake his head and abandon her.
"She lacks primal fortitude. She will rely entirely on her own weak vitality. I can do nothing."
As Harlan held her shivering body in despair, Cadence felt a deep sense of desperate injustice. Was she really going to die in a filthy stone hut in an unknown universe, killed by a simple cold?
No. She remembered her grandfather's strict survival lessons. Forcing her heavy eyes open, she grabbed her terrified tiger mate's hand. She didn't need their failing magic; she had science.
"I need specific plants to live. I need white willow bark. And a spicy, ginger-like root."
She rasped, preparing to show this savage world the true power of a modern survivor.
9.2
I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain.
The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust.
Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits?
"Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis."
Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.
7.6
For six months, I drained my very soul to heal Alpha Coleton's paralyzed spine. I gave so much energy that I lost the ability to shift into my wolf form. I thought when he finally stood up, he would announce to the pack that I was his Fated Mate.
Instead, he looked right through me.
"You have served the pack well as a servant," he said coldly.
Then he welcomed back Charly, the woman who had abandoned him the moment he was injured. To protect Charly from a harmless spider, he shoved me into a purification pool laced with liquid silver. It burned my skin like acid, leaving scars that refused to fade.
When Charly faked a cough during lunch, he accused me of poisoning her with Wolfsbane. He didn't check the food. He simply grabbed my jaw and forced boiling hot soup down my throat while I gagged and begged for mercy.
"If you hurt her again, I'll make you a slave," he threatened, his eyes full of disgust.
I finally understood. My sacrifice meant nothing to him. He would kill me to please a liar.
So, I sent a single text: "I accept your rejection, Alpha Coleton."
Then I disappeared.
Three years later, I returned. Not as a weak, broken healer, but as a legendary White Wolf, with the most powerful Alpha Prime in Europe holding my hand.
Coleton fell to his knees in the middle of the airport, tears streaming down his face as he begged for the bond to return.
I looked down at him with glowing golden eyes.
"You broke me so I could rebuild myself," I said softly. "And I built a world where you don't exist."