Taming My Time-Traveling Lover in My Bed: The Savage King
I bought an antique four-poster bed at Sotheby's, said to be the final resting place of a long-dead European king.
A week later, I woke up to the thick smell of blood, only to find a massive, heavily wounded man in my bed holding a forged steel sword to my throat.
He was dressed in ruined velvet and gold, bleeding out from a massive abdominal gash. When I tried to save him with modern medicine, he called it sorcery and nearly choked me to death. He destroyed my expensive appliances, treating my home like a witch's lair. I thought he was a lunatic cosplayer who broke in, until he tossed me a massive ruby ring as a down payment for my help. I looked it up online. It was the lost coronation ring of King Cain the Cruel, valued at thirty million dollars.
I was terrified of this savage who could snap my neck in an instant. I couldn't comprehend how a tyrant who had been dead for 135 years was breathing in my attic, until he lay back down on the antique mattress and literally vanished into thin air before my eyes.
The bed was a time portal.
The police would lock him in a psych ward and confiscate the priceless artifact, leaving me with nothing but bloodstained sheets and trauma.
"I can give you more wealth than you can imagine."
So, when he reappeared and offered me the lost Fabergé eggs of his fallen empire in exchange for modern shelter, I didn't call 911. I took his hand and became the 21st-century gatekeeper for a time-traveling king.
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Chapter 2
His blue eyes flickered with surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by suspicion.
"You wish to use your sorcery on me?" he rasped, his chin lifted in defiance despite the deathly pallor of his skin.
Katherine kept her hands raised, her pulse thudding in her ears.
"It's not sorcery," she said firmly. "It's science. Medicine."
She had to make him understand. She couldn't fight him; she had to outsmart him.
"I have some medical training," Katherine said. It wasn't entirely a lie. She had taken a wilderness first responder course before a charity expedition to Patagonia three years ago—a course that had covered wound cleaning, basic suturing, and emergency antibiotic use in backcountry situations. Far more than the CPR class most of her peers had breezed through at charity luncheons. "I have a medical kit right here."
She pointed with her chin toward the metal box in the corner.
"Medicine?" he repeated the word like it was a curse.
A fresh wave of pain hit him. He doubled over slightly, a groan escaping his clenched teeth. The sword wavered, dropping a fraction of an inch.
Katherine saw her opening.
"You don't have a choice," she said, her voice hard. "You can either trust me, or you can bleed to death on my sheets. Your sword can't kill blood loss."
He stared at her, his chest heaving. He was assessing her, weighing his options. She met his gaze head-on, refusing to show the terror that was making her stomach churn.
Finally, he gave a slight nod.
"Where is it?" he asked, the command still present in his weak voice.
"Over there." She pointed again. "I need to walk over there to get it."
He gestured with the sword, permitting her to move, but his eyes never left her.
Katherine walked slowly, every step deliberate. She could feel his gaze boring into her back like a laser. She reached the red metal box on the shelf and popped it open.
Inside, everything was neatly organized. Alcohol pads, gauze, medical tape, a suture kit, a bottle of ibuprofen, and an emergency blister pack of broad-spectrum antibiotics—leftovers from the dental surgery she'd had the previous spring. Katherine took a steadying breath. She grabbed the alcohol and a stack of gauze.
She turned back to him. "I need to clean the wound. It's going to hurt."
He let out a bitter laugh that turned into a cough. "This pain is nothing compared to a single lie at a royal banquet."
Katherine paused, thrown off by the bizarre statement. She didn't have time to decipher his delusions.
She approached the bed, the smell of blood overwhelming the antiseptic scent of the alcohol. Her stomach roiled, but she swallowed the bile down.
She reached out to unbutton his ruined coat.
Instantly, his body went rigid. The sword snapped back up, pressing against her collarbone.
"Do not touch me!" he snarled, his eyes wild.
Katherine jumped back, her hands flying up again. "I have to see the wound to fix it! The alcohol will ruin your coat anyway!"
She realized her mistake. In his twisted mind, she was probably violating some sort of noble honor code.
He hesitated, looking down at his blood-soaked shirt. It was a garment of obvious quality, now reduced to rags. A flash of pain crossed his face that had nothing to do with his injury.
With a grimace, he reached up with his free hand. His fingers fumbled with the buttons, shaking from the effort, before he simply ripped the fabric open, exposing his stomach.
The gash was ugly. It was deep, the edges ragged and inflamed. It looked like a blade had sliced him open.
Katherine took a deep breath. She soaked a gauze pad in alcohol.
"This is going to burn." she warned.
She pressed the pad to his skin.
His entire body jerked. The muscles in his abdomen contracted violently. A hiss of air escaped his teeth, but he didn't scream. He didn't even groan. He just sat there, his jaw locked, his eyes squeezed shut, enduring the agony in silence.
Katherine worked quickly, wiping away the blood and dirt. She was amazed by his tolerance. He had a will of iron.
As she cleaned the area near his ribs, her knuckles brushed against his skin. It was burning hot. He was running a terrible fever.
She finished wrapping the wound with gauze, securing it tightly. The bleeding slowed, but the infection was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving. The sword slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the mattress. He was too weak to hold it anymore.
He was at her mercy.
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9.3
Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance)
Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter...
Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline.
Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King.
Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life.
But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart.
Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥
8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
9.2
At the absolute summit of her pop-star career, the stage collapsed beneath Catherine's feet, plunging her into a mechanical black hole.
When she opened her eyes, she wasn't in a hospital, but a savage, primitive forest.
Before a fire-breathing beast could tear her apart, a massive black snake crushed it with a single strike.
The terrifying serpent then transformed into Amon, a towering, heavily scarred man with golden slitted eyes, who swore his life to protect her.
He brought her to his tribe, but instead of safety, they were met with ravenous hunger and disgust.
The tribe's males stared at Catherine's fragile human body like a rare breeding prize, while treating Amon like garbage.
"He's a cursed, cold-blooded freak! His rut will tear you to pieces!"
The Chief sneered, pointing a thick, accusing finger at Amon.
"By tribal law, you must mate with our strongest tiger and bear shifters to give us powerful cubs!"
Humiliated, Amon's broad shoulders slumped, his fists trembling in suffocating shame as he prepared to back away.
Catherine's heart pounded with fierce, burning anger.
When she was about to be eaten, Amon was the only one who bled for her.
Where were these arrogant bullies then? Why should she let them treat her savior like a monster?
As the tribe's strongest warriors swarmed forward to claim her, Catherine stepped directly in front of Amon's lethal claws.
"I don't need any of you," she declared, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"I will mate with Amon and take his beast mark today!"
7.1
On her eighteenth birthday, Melissa expected a fated mate bond and a future as Luna. Instead, she received a public humiliation that shattered her soul. Her childhood sweetheart, Kelan, rejected her for her best friend, and her own family sold her to the highest bidder like livestock, to Alpha Draven the Demon of Dark Moon Valley. He is a man twice her age, a tyrant who bought Melissa to break a dark bloodline curse. He expects an obedient pawn and a submissive wife.
He didn't expect a strategist. From the shadows of Draven's stone fortress, Melissa begins a cold-blooded campaign of revenge. She isn't just surviving; she's siphoning wealth, buying up her ex-mate's debts, and plotting a coup. But her plan hits a deadly snag when she touches Briston, the Alpha's son and heir. The spark is undeniable. The Moon Goddess has played a cruel joke and Melissa is fated to the son of the man who owns her.
7.3
Ciel Miller opened her eyes to the blinding lights of a Manhattan ballroom, realizing she had been reborn on the exact night her life was ruined.
On the stage, the billionaire patriarch of the Chavez family was proudly announcing her engagement to his arrogant grandson, Harry.
In her past life, Ciel had blindly accepted his outstretched hand. That single step plunged her into a suffocating marriage filled with public humiliation and psychological torture, slowly draining her life away until she died. Harry had treated her like a pathetic stray dog, flaunting his absolute ownership while systematically destroying her.
Now, as the polite applause echoed, Harry extended his hand with a sickening smirk, waiting for her to lower her head and submit.
Instead, Ciel stood perfectly rigid and publicly rejected him in front of the entire New York elite.
Harry's face drained of color, while his family quickly mocked her.
"This is a cheap, embarrassing trick to get his attention," his sister sneered.
Harry's arrogant smirk crawled back. He fully believed she was just throwing a childish tantrum to make him jealous, convinced she was absolutely nothing without his wealth and status.
But Ciel looked at the man who had killed her in her past life with freezing disgust.
Then, she turned to the powerful patriarch and dropped a bombshell that left the entire ballroom gasping for air.
"If the family insists on taking care of me, I will marry into the Chavez family."
"But I want to marry the comatose war hero. I want to marry General Deacon Chavez."
She would rather spend the rest of her life with a "vegetable" than wake up next to a monster.
8.0
Eloise Ferguson was the legitimate daughter of a powerful Senator, yet she was treated like a hysterical burden by her own family.
In her past life, her parents forced her to marry a sadistic billionaire for political funding.
When she resisted, they locked her in a psychiatric facility, drugged her, and left her to die in restraints while her "fragile" cousin Jaylene stole her life.
She never understood why her mother hated her so fiercely.
Why did her mother treat her brother Cortez and her cousin Jaylene like absolute royalty, while throwing her own flesh and blood to the wolves?
Opening her eyes again, Eloise found herself back at age twenty-two, trapped in a restroom at a charity gala.
Escaping her abuser, she used her awakened mystic abilities to look at her family's life forces.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
Thick, red biological cords connected her mother directly to both Cortez and Jaylene, intertwining in a perfect symbiotic bond.
They weren't cousins. They were illegitimate twins born from her mother's secret affair.
Eloise was the only true outsider in her own home.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. Her entire life of abuse was just a cover-up for a nest of parasites stealing her father's name and her inheritance.
But this time, she refused to be their victim.
Armed with an unchallengeable executive order she blackmailed out of the United States President, Eloise crushed the hidden microphone in her bedroom.
"Game on, Mother."