The Lycan King's Hideous Mage
*** This story has steamy scenes that are not suitable for minors.***
Serra Lore's life is supposed to be ideal and perfect. She graduated top of the class in the Mage Academy. She married the handsome Gideon Dunkerson, the young Lycan King. And now, she is his Luna.
However, on their first wedding anniversary, everything turned upside down. She discovered that her in-laws were just using her. Her husband is cheating on her with a beautiful woman. To make matters worse, she sacrificed her almost passable face and become hideous, in order to protect everyone in the Kingdom.
Now that her daydream has turned into a nightmare, how will she regain the confidence she once had? And to get much needed revenge against her husband?
Gideon Dunkerson thought that his life was perfect. He is the Lycan King-powerful, rich and handsome. The only flaw in his life is that, his Luna does not only look ordinary, but also comes from an ordinary family. Her only saving grace is her excellent magic skills that catapulted her to gain the prestige to become his Luna.
However, he did not expect that his respect for her magic, will turn into lust, and then becomes love. He tried to stop himself from completely falling in love with her, but all was in vain. All his plans to hurt her only cause him a series of pain. He is about to confess his love for her when tragedy struck. She chooses to protect everyone and vanishes from his life.
Her disappearance spirals him into depression and grief, and soon, he is traveling all around the world to search for his Lost Luna. However, when a new competition is held to find a new Luna, Serra reappears. And this time, he vows not to let go of her hand ever again, even if, every time she looks at him, it is with distaste and hatred.
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Chapter 11
-- Gideon Dunkerson's POV --
The great dining hall of Dunkerson castle was ablaze with the warmth of firelight. I sit at the head of the oaken table, while both Queen Marinella, my mother, and Serra sit on both my side. This time, it is a private dinner for the three of us.
My mother is telling tales about the valor of knights and cunning dragons. She looks bright as she continues to speak, but I know my mother. When Serra returned, she had already raised her concerns to me. She fears that Serra might have another agenda.
I pushed it aside. Serra is nothing like that. She's the type to get tired of politics. Petty schemes are not really her forte. Serra is bright, but the type of straightforward smart who works diligently and focuses on the things they excel at. For her, it's her proficient skills in magic. Some call it genius-level though.
"Gideon, isn't that right?" My mother's voice pulls me back into the conversation.
"Hmmm?" I answer my mother.
I have been gazing for far too long at Serra, but I still don't shift my attention from her. Then I watch a blush on her cheeks as she looks down at her glass of wine. Yes, definitely not the type to think of the complications that my mother is warning me of. Besides, she knew about my cheating but still sacrificed herself to save me. Now, she's back again, and I promise that I won't give her any more reasons to hurt compared to what I've done a lot in the past.
"Gideon?" my mother asks again.
I nod at my mother, not really knowing what question I'm affirming. "Yes, indeed."
Her laughter fills the room, and I can see how the blush in Serra's cheeks became even redder. To hide it, she takes a sip of her wine, as if it's the most delicious thing ever. I glance at her lips. Oh! I want to kiss her again, to taste her skin, and hear her moans. It's been a while, I miss her so.
"I am asking when you are going to become intimate again. You need heirs from Serra, so tonight will be a great time."
"Oh," I say, so that explains the blush on her face.
Serra fidgets with her glass, her fingers tapping lightly against the crystal. So, I can't help but reach out and hold her hand, and she just fits perfectly into mine as if her hands are made to be held by only me.
Serra turns to look at me, her eyes are filled with uncertainty. "I..." she begins, but stops, biting at her lower lip. And the gesture is making me think of the different ways I can nibble on her lips.
"No pressure, Serra," I say, surprising myself with how strained my own voice sounds. "We don't have to rush into anything."
"I mean it's okay, but... I may not be up to par..."
Oh, my sweet, classic Serra. Always second-guessing herself other than magic. I reach to her cheeks and caress it. She blinks and gazes into my eyes. This is love. It's still there. So, I will do everything to treat her right this time.
"I assure you, Serra," I tell her, my voice getting deeper the more I feel my desire for her. "You've always been more than enough."
She swallows, her eyes shimmering in the light as they meet mine. My heart stutters at the sight. I will erase the doubts from her mind, and with time and assurance, she'd find the confidence and security in my love.
"Okay," she whispers.
My heart swells with a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. Right now and here, I want to take her, to make her scream in her passions again. To give her all that I can. But all I did was to bring her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. I watch the emotions play over her face, the nervousness slowly giving way to something more tender, more trusting.
"You two lovebirds, just leave now, and do whatever you want in the comforts of your room," Queen Marinella suggests, waving her hand.
And so, we rise from our seats. Serra, who is still holding my hand, gives me a shy smile. We bid our goodbyes and leave the dining hall, the sound of our footsteps fading into the quiet of the castle corridors.
************************
I can feel the warmth of Serra's hand as we make our way back to my quarters after dinner.
"That was quite a feast," she comments, breaking the silence between us.
"Yes, my mother always makes sure that we have a grand meal whenever there are guests." I reply as I glance at her.
We reach my room, and I open the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She steps inside, looking around curiously at the lavish decor. I close the door behind me and walk over to stand beside her.
"Do you really want to do this with me tonight?" I ask. "Be intimate?"
She looks up at me. "It's my duty."
"I want it to be more than just a duty, though."
She looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers and I feel like I am drowning in them again. Her gaze always makes me second-guess things that I thought I was very sure of.
"Gideon?"
"Hmmm?" I ask.
My heart beats faster as she takes another step towards me until there is barely any space left between us. Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand in mine.
"Can I hold your hand?" I ask hesitantly, afraid of pushing her too far and making sure that she really wants me to hold her hand.
Serra doesn't say anything, but she doesn't let go of my hand either. Instead, she gently intertwines our fingers together and leans her head against my chest.
We stand there for what feels like eternity, just holding each other's hands and breathing each other's scent. It feels like all the troubles in the world have vanished, leaving only us.
"Your room is beautiful, Gideon," she murmurs into my shoulder. Her voice is soft as a gentle song, and it makes my heart skip another beat. "It's just as grand as everything else here."
With temporary courage, I ask, "Do you want to share this room with me?"
She chuckles, pulls a bit from me, and looks around. "If you were to invite me here, this place needs a bit more bookshelves," she suggests.
"Hmmm," I say, pulling her body back to me. She's soft, and she smells very nice. "I can prepare another room for all your towering bookshelves and I will fill them with ancient tomes."
"I hope it's far from this room?" she asks. "I still do dangerous experiments with magic."
"If it is far from this place, then let's add an ornate bed with velvet drapes in that room," I suggest.
But instead of giggling, she stiffens in my hold. I've gone too far, so I squeeze her body to mine and bury my face in her hair. But then, I was too late to remember that I... am already very ready to take her to bed.
"Sorry," I whisper, embarrassed at my body's reaction to her.
She pulls a little and looks down, then she blushes again, knowing exactly what I want to do now, with her.
"Can I prepare? I mean, I need a bath first."
I feel a pinch in my heart. I remember that before, we always took a bath before becoming intimate. I'm the one who puts that rule, making her feel as if she is always dirty.
"There's no need," I say, reaching for her hand and kissing each of her fingers.
"I also need to explore your room first. I mean, this is an enormous room," she remarks as my lips make their way to all her fingers.
I glance at her face. There it is. She's as red as a beet. She is feeling this; I am sure. And so, with a playful smile, I say, "If you want to explore, we can do that."
There is a pause and then, she stammers, "Y-you mean, explore the room, right?"
I shake my head and wind my arms around her waist. When I pull her back to me, she squeals in surprise, and it sounds so good in my ears.
"No, Serra," I murmur, reaching up to lightly trace her face with my fingers. Her reaction to my touch made my pulse quicken in response. "I meant the exploration of us."
She blinks at my words, the blush on her cheeks deepening. The interplay of fear and desire in her gaze fans the embers of my growing desire to own her again.
"Serra?" I ask, trying to get her consent.
She takes an uneasy breath, and then her eyes flutter shut as she leans into my touch.
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8.4
Seraphina died betrayed. She perished in flames-poisoned by Darius, the fated mate she'd foolishly loved. Her childhood sweetheart, who sacrificed her only to save his mistress.
Reborn five years earlier, Seraphina vows: Never again. No more submissions. No more suffering his cruelty. This time, she'll rewrite her destiny - then she meets Kairos.
The Untamed Alpha King who loathes the mate bond after his own betrayal. Her second-chance mate - a bond that will kill her if she rejects it.
Now, caught between Kairos' relentless pursuit and Darius' desperate attempts to reclaim her, Seraphina faces an impossible choice:
Drown the world in vengeance... or risk her shattered heart on the mate who could either heal her scars or destroy her completely?
8.0
Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden.
Instead, it destroyed her life.
Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night.
Then came the cruelest blow of all.
After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died.
The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars.
They were wrong.
Five years later, Scarlett returns.
No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind.
Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble.
She comes back for one reason only: revenge.
Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole.
But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything-
the child she mourned for years may not be dead.
And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along.
7.2
I woke up in a lavish bedroom, only to find a man built like a god of war chained to my wall, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
A glowing apparition appeared and told me I had died in a car crash and transmigrated into the body of Elara, a tyrant Luna. Worse, the chained man was Ryker, one of my six fated mates whom the original Elara had brutally tortured.
Because of her sadistic crimes-starving them, exiling them, and sending two of them on a suicide mission-my affinity with them was at negative five hundred. The apparition delivered my terrifying death sentence.
"In three days, at the Marking Ceremony, you will be killed by your six mates."
No matter what I did-freeing Ryker, sharing my food, or lifting their brother's exile-they viewed every act of kindness as a sick, twisted trap. They were just waiting for the punchline to my cruel joke, ready to expose me and end my life.
I was just a librarian who organized book clubs and paid my taxes. Why did the Goddess throw me into this doomed vessel to pay for a psychopath's blood debts? How was I supposed to survive when the men destined to love me were actively plotting to rip my throat out?
Cornered by their righteous fury, I realized playing defense wouldn't work. I grabbed a dagger, sliced my own palm over the ceremonial stone, and swore a blood oath to bring their missing brothers home-or initiate a soul-shattering Rejection Ceremony myself.
7.9
Estrella Ward gave five years of her life to her husband, draining her trust fund to save him from bankruptcy and raising his son as her own.
But one night, she woke up in a freezing hotel room, drugged, with a stranger's bite marks on her skin.
Her husband burst through the door with cameras, his vicious family, and her ten-year-old stepson, publicly framing her as a cheating whore.
The horrifying truth soon surfaced: her husband had drugged her himself, selling her body to his Wall Street boss to secure a senior partnership.
Estrella fought back with hidden security footage, blackmailing him into submission after discovering she was pregnant with his boss's child.
But fate dealt a cruel blow. She was diagnosed with aggressive, terminal breast cancer.
She refused to abort the baby to keep her leverage, but the cancer spread too fast.
She died alone in a cold hospital room, her vengeance unfinished, while her husband and his cruel family celebrated.
They thought they had successfully buried her and her secrets forever, escaping unpunished for destroying her life.
But when she gasped for air and opened her eyes again, she wasn't in a cold grave.
She was in a sterile hospital bed, looking at the perfectly manicured hands of Brooklyn Thompson—the notorious, empty-headed socialite everyone despised.
Estrella's soul had survived the abyss.
"You're going to pay for every drop of blood."
She clenched her new fists, the fire of her vengeance burning brighter than ever.
7.4
Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum.
She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection.
The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her.
Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind.
"I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back."
How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival.
Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.
9.7
Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her "best friend" Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family's bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn't leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma's veins.
This time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family's wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself.