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 7
My dreams have always been about the pain of my years of training. I spent an entire year in the Liddicoat's family house. It is where their family library stands, underneath that big, old house. And there, I scour ancient tomes and scrolls, learning more spells that might come in handy when my quest for revenge starts.
In my dream, my fingers will dance over different parchments, tracing the arcane symbols and incantations of long-lost spells. Caius also provided me with seers, monks and alchemists. And because they are being blackmailed by the vampire prince, they are forced to share their techniques with me - all poultices, elixirs and enchantments.
But handy techniques and skills are not the only things I peruse. I also worked on my skills of using powerful and potent spells, like that powerful sleeping spell.
'Revenge is worth any price,' I will say to motivate myself, when things have become so hard.
And then, my dream will transport to an island, where I spent another year of training - to make my body more durable and more resistant. There, I would summon different elements at the behest of Caius' master, who also became my master.
The old man's name is Vincere, who would always tell me that I should learn to properly control my magic during combat, not just to unleash it on great bursts. He always said that it's not the only way to overwhelm an opponent.
In the first week, I would always tell him that 'Control takes time' and things like 'Time is a luxury I don't have.'
Which the old man will answer with a, 'Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither will your mastery be achieved overnight.'
Or sometimes, it will be a 'You are more than your scars, Serra. You are a force to be reckoned with.'
It all depends on the current situation. Like for example, during my final task, I was surrounded by rogue vampires and almost died, because Vincere never even considered helping me.
Still, on the sideline, he is chanting the words, 'Adapt, survive, conquer, Serra.'
I wonder how Caius had grown into a happy-go-lucky man with Vincere as his master?
********************
My eyes flutter open at the first rays of sunlight that are piercing through the cracks of the window shutters. I groggily sit up, my head throbbing with a dull ache. It's another very long, but familiar dream.
As I stretch, I catch sight of myself in the small but elegant mirror on the wall.
Disfigured. Twisted. Unrecognizable.
As I stare at my face, I see that it's getting worse. I am getting uglier by the second. Why?!
My skin is being further marred by angry scars and puckered burns, and then it starts to crisscross over my face like a grotesquely growing spider web. I raise a trembling hand to touch my cheek and I feel the rough texture beneath my fingertips.
The sight makes my stomach churn, bile rising in my throat. I can't help when a shrill scream escapes my mouth.
And then I wake up - really wake up to my reality. I rise up and stand in front of the mirror. I heave a sigh of relief when I see that my reflection is still well-hidden by glamour.
These dreams, they're not leaving me soon. No. Not until I take my revenge!
There is a knock and then the door opens. Gideon, my fuck-up husband, comes in. He looks worried as his eyes go to my bed. And not finding me on the bed, his eyes scour the room until his gaze settles on me. A sigh of relief escapes his lips at the same time that his shoulders relax.
"There you are..." Gideon whispers. "Are you okay? I heard a scream."
I look at Gideon, his eyes are clouded with worry for me, and I stop myself from snorting.
"Just a nightmare, that's all," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart is still racing from the dream, and the grotesque scars are still fresh in my mind.
"I'm okay now," I add, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes and forcing a smile.
He frowns, not convinced, but nods anyway. Perhaps it's because he doesn't want to push it further, or else he is going to bring up all his wrongs that he won't be able to apologize for in this lifetime.
Instead, Gideon approaches and wraps his arms around me in a comforting embrace. He then places a soft kiss on my forehead - a gesture that feels so misplaced and hollow in everything he has done to me.
"You should go back to bed, Serra," Gideon murmurs into my hair. "It's not yet time for breakfast."
I shake my head, pulling away from him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I can't sleep anymore."
I walk over to the window and pull open the shutters, allowing the faint morning light to stream in. The sight of the sparkling dew-kissed grass is beautiful, it always is, but it stirs no joy within me... at least, not anymore.
"Serra..." he begins, his voice a low rumble. "About the past. I apologize for all the wrongs I've done to you. Our relationship might not be the same as before, but I promise you that I will treat you better now."
I shift my attention to him again. Of course, our relationship won't be the same as before. I'm not as gullible and stupid as before. This time, I will have the upper hand.
"I..." I start, but paused to pretend that I am hesitating. "Your words are unexpected," I say, being careful with each word.
"I know, but I-"
"It's fine," I say, raising my hand to stop him. "When I planned to return, I... I have already decided to forgive you."
Gideon's eyes lit up. He moves closer to me and takes a hold of my hand.
"Serra," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. "As we restart, there might be lingering resentment in your heart... But I will do my best to rebuild the trust between us."
What 'trust' between us? There is nothing like that before, and definitely nothing now. Still, I nod and give him a faint smile.
"To start anew, we need to let go of the past. We both deserve a chance to move forward."
I almost vomit in disgust at the words I uttered. I may be unaware when people are taking advantage of me, but I am not that stupid!
He squeezes my hand gently, his expression softening. "Thank you, Serra. I promise to prove myself worthy of your love."
Then, he pulls me towards the chair and makes me sit. "There's also one other thing," he starts. "I've sent my concubines away - all but the pregnant ones."
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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.