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."
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Chapter 3
'This cannot be happening to me,' Daphne thought dazedly. She couldn't move her legs, but that didn't stop her body from gliding down the aisle via a supernatural force. She narrowed her eyes, glaring hotly at the culprit as the distance between her and her soon-to-be husband steadily shrank.
Out of the hordes of servants watching this spectacle, no one blinked an eye at the fact that she was here under duress, getting married under the coercion of supernatural forces. If her groom could do this to her, an actual princess, who knows what the servants had to endure?
Said culprit merely continued smirking.
"Why do you look so delighted?" Daphne grumbled. She could not be less amused.
"Someone has to be for this wedding, and it certainly isn't going to be you," he replied glibly, holding her hand with his own, larger one. For such a cold-hearted scoundrel, he certainly had warm hands.
"What makes you think I'll accept this farce of a wedding?"
"You have no choice," King Atticus said. "Agree to marry me, or I'll kill everyone in this hall and marry you anyway. The choice is yours."
"You―" Her blood grew cold when she heard the callous words from his lips. "They are your people! You're their king. You would kill them for this?"
"Like you said, I'm their king. If our marriage doesn't happen, they'll die anyway. It's only a matter of time. Would you have their deaths on your conscience, Princess Daphne?"
If Daphne were calmer, she would find those words suspicious. As it was, she was shaking from unrestrained rage. "Don't you dare blame me for your actions! I pity your people, for having to live under such a capricious and cruel king."
King Atticus only looked more amused. He turned to the priest, who looked like he couldn't wait to escape from the hall. Daphne could understand. She gave him a pleading look, hoping that he could help her stop this wedding.
She was sorely disappointed.
"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of hearts and minds... "
Daphne closed her eyes in desperate prayer. She missed the fond look her husband gave her, and the way he gestured to the priest to hurry up. Instinctively, Daphne reached up, thankful that her new husband had at least given her this bit of mobility back. Yet, her body felt like it was doused in cold water when her fingers touched nothing but the bare skin of her neck.
That's right. She had forgotten. King Atticus had ripped the last bit of familiarity left on her body and smashed it to the ground like it was nothing more than glass.
The realization of her destroyed necklace sent Daphne into further despair. After all, that necklace wasn't just an accessory― like most jewelry on the continent, they were supposed to be charms, talismans that would aid them in their magic. And although Daphne had never been adept at it, that little trinket still made her feel safe. It was, after all, a gift from her sister.
"...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health..." the priest continued.
Daphne could see clear as day the tick of irritation that flashed across the king's face, and with each passing word, increasingly so. The vein that throbbed at his temple nearly sent Daphne into a giggling fit.
Why was he so impatient? Did he have somewhere else to be after this?
So enraptured in her stupor, she hadn't even noticed that King Atticus had already said his vows. And when the priest addressed her, calling her for the second time, Daphne snapped back to reality.
"Your Highness?" the priest prompted.
Daphne blinked. Dumbly, her lips parted but no words left. She couldn't find her own voice, glancing back and forth between the priest and the king.
"Pardon?"
"Do you, Princess Daphne Amelia Molinero, take His Majesty, King Atticus Rowan Heinvres, as your lawfully wedded husband?"
The hall was drenched in silence. Daphne was sure that everyone could hear her heart thundering in her chest without even having to strain their ears too hard.
She wasn't sure why but Daphne's first instinct was to turn towards King Atticus. Her eyes met his instantly, gazes colliding.
For some insane reason, Daphne felt her heart calm down. The gaze in his eyes were soft, mellow, and unlike anything else she had ever associated him with ever since she had first heard tales of this cruel king.
The pooling gold in his eyes was hypnotizing. His irises reminded Daphne of the stars that dotted the sky at night, or of the glow of the sun when evening casts it onto the horizon.
She was so mesmerized in his gaze that it was only when the hall erupted into boisterous cheers had she finally snapped out of it.
"And now I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
Wait... had she already said 'I do'?
"Wait―" Daphne murmured, looking around. "I didn't―"
"You did," King Atticus swiftly cut in. Daphne glared sharply at him, her blood boiling when she connected the dots.
"You! You used magic on me," she accused angrily.
Her new husband had the gall to look affronted at being accused. "Honored priest, did you see me casting any spell on my bride?"
"No I did not, Your Highness," the priest said placidly.
Daphne gritted her teeth. They were all liars and scoundrels.
"You heard him."
Before Daphne could react, she felt a pair of warm lips pressed against her own. The kiss was not intrusive― there was no tongue or teeth or any of that disgusting action she had heard the maids of the Reawethen castle had gossiped about.
Instead, it was just a chaste kiss, a brief moment where their lips were in contact. Yet, that brief second was all that was needed. Warmth rushed through her body. Immediately, where their skins touched, Daphne felt as though it was on fire ― in the best way possible ― as if there were flowers blooming where he touched her.
The feeling confused her, for she rejected and repelled the man with all her might in her heart. Yet... maybe it was just the power of it having been her first kiss. It felt like for a second, she had been cast into paradise.
But that second came and went and as soon as Atticus pulled back, Daphne snapped back into reality. That was the second time within the last hour the king had done something against her desires.
Meanwhile, Atticus only beamed when he saw his new wife's angry face.
"Now that the ceremony is over, we should proceed to the most important part of any wedding."
"I'm not hungry," Daphne bit out. Her stomach was now twisted with dread and indignant anger― she doubted she could swallow anything bigger than a prune. "You can have the banquet without me."
"Banquet? Surely you jest, my sweet wife. We're not having a banquet."
"Then what are you referring to? What can be more important than..."
Her voice trailed off, a horrible conclusion forming in her mind. Her body trembled and shook and her eyes widened with fear.
A look of utmost amusement flashed across his handsome face.
"It seems like you've guessed it." Atticus turned to his servants and declared, "Prepare the bedding chamber! I wish to consummate my marriage immediately."
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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."