The Masked Princess Bound To The King She Hates
Princess Ella walks down the aisle to marry the man who destroyed her life.
Behind her mask lies a secret powerful enough to bring a kingdom to its knees-and a revenge plan years in the making. To the world, she is a quiet and obedient queen. In truth, she is a survivor who has come to finish what war began.
But King Augustine is not a man easily deceived.
Cold, intelligent, and dangerously observant, he quickly realizes his new bride is hiding more than she shows. Instead of exposing her, he watches... waits... and begins a silent game where every glance, every word, and every move becomes a test.
As tension builds inside the palace, a survivor from Ella's past arrives-someone who can reveal her identity and destroy everything she has planned.
Now trapped between revenge and survival, Ella must decide how far she is willing to go.
Because in a marriage built on lies, one truth could ruin them both-
or bring them closer than either ever intended.
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Chapter 3
The room was even smaller than it used to be. Or perhaps it was just him.
Queen Ella was on the verge of the bed, and her hands were loosely gripping the stuff of her dress as she looked around the room. The candles were dimmed previously, and a soft light was cast, which projected shadows on the walls.
It was too quiet. Too intimate.
She felt him at her back. Not to touch, not to speak--just there. Always there.
You are not going to bed, he said, his voice cutting through the quiet, deep and monotonous.
She didn't turn immediately.
I like it here, I said, trying to make my voice even.
It was a moment of silence.
It is not an option. he said.
Her hold was a little tighter. Of course it wasn't. Nothing here seemed to her decision.
Slowly, she turned to face him. King Augustine was only a few steps away, and his eyes were fixed upon her--not cold, not warm, but probing, as though he were attempting to read something which would not reveal itself.
I shall not sleep with you, I said firmly.
The words were suspended in the air, bold and dangerous. But she didn't retract them.
King Augustine raised his head a little, and looked at her. Not sleep together? he repeated.
Queen Ella lifted her chin defiantly. "You heard me."
Silence enveloped them, thick and heavy. Then he came a step nearer.
Her breath caught.
Thou art my queen, said he. "Not a guest."
Another step. She instinctively shrank to the verge of the bed, against which the back of her knees was pushed. Trapped.
Her heart was beginning to beat, but she would not show it. King Augustine halted in front of her, too close for comfort.
You oppose all, he said to himself.
And you ask too many questions, she replied, and tried to keep her cool.
Something flashed through his face--interest, not anger. That made it worse.
His eyes turned to her mask, and lingered there. Naturally Ella noticed, and the distance between them suddenly seemed to narrow.
His hand lifted, slowly, deliberately. Her breath stilled. He was not reaching towards her, he was reaching towards the mask.
No, no, she said hastily, moving away to the bed to make space. It was a spontaneous, unthought movement, yet successful--at least in the short run.
King Augustine didn't follow right away. Instead, he observed her intently.
You keep that mask like you were depending on your life, he said.
It does, she said before she could help herself.
There was a silence, more dangerous this time, as she had told too much. The eyes of King Augustine contracted a little.
"Interesting," he murmured.
The heart of Queen Ella beat. She had made a mistake, and he had caught on. Of course he had.
He made another movement, nearer this time. She had no farther to go; the bed was behind her. Nowhere left to go.
His hand rose again, higher this time, nearer. She choked as his fingers brushed her face, through the mask, only inches away.
What shall I find, I said to myself, should I take this away?
The heart of Queen Ella pounded. Fear--not the sort she might have displayed, but the sort that threatened to bring it all to light.
You will find nothing, she said, her voice even in the tempest within her.
Nothing, nothing, he said, and his fingers came a little nearer. Not touching, yet to make her heart beat faster. "Then why hide?"
The question remained, oppressive and inevitable. Ella held his gaze.
"If you wish to know me," she said slowly, "then you will have to do so without seeing my face."
A challenge. A perilous one.
Both stood still a moment. Then the hand of King Augustine fell--not in defeat, but in command.
Very well, he said, and she was more surprised than she ought to have been.
He stepped back, creating space, breathing room. Queen Ella didn't relax. She could not, as this was not surrender; it was something different--something reckoned.
The room changed without any notice. The light filled the room. Queen Ella swung about.
The servants were back, re-lighting candles, drawing curtains, making the room as bright as possible in an instant, almost blinding. Her breath caught. Too much light. Too much exposure.
Her hand instinctively moved toward her mask. Of course Augustine noticed. His gaze followed the movement, sharp and immediate.
You do not like the light? he said.
Queen Ella made her hand drop. I do not used to it.
Or, he said, you fear what it tells you.
The words were too near. She said nothing. Could say nothing. Since this was the first time she felt observed that night. Not completely, but sufficiently.
The servants went away as soon as they had arrived, and the door was closed behind them. There was a silence, but it was not the same. This one bore a greater burden--consciousness.
King Augustine turned his back to her, and walked toward the window. But she had heard otherwise. He was watching, still thinking, still piecing things together.
You do not behave like a person who is afraid of me, he said.
Queen Ella stood motionless. Should I? she said
"Most do."
I am not the majority.
Another pause.
"No, you are not." he said quietly
The words passed a weird feeling through her--not of comfort, not of fear, but of something. Something she did not wish to call.
The bed towered over her, reminding her where she was to be, what this night was supposed to mean. Ella hesitated, and then sat on the extreme end of the bed--wary, remote, as far off as she could be.
King Augustine looked at her, and, without saying a word, crossed to the other side. Not nearer, not thrusting anything--just. there. The distance between them remained, but the tension didn't dissipate.
Minutes taken, or possibly more. In that room, time was not real. Queen Ella sank down stiffly with her back turned slightly to him, her eyes open although she was still. She didn't trust him.And yet. he had not forcibly taken her, had not touched her, had not taken off the mask. She couldn't. And yet... he hadn't forced her, hadn't touched her, hadn't removed the mask.
Her mind wandered restlessly. Why? Why should a man whom she hated behave in this way?
She heard movement behind her--slow, careful. Her breath stilled.
"You're awake," he said quietly. It wasn't a question.
Queen Ella didn't respond.
"Good," he continued. A stop, and--because I have been thinking.
Her heart began to race again. And what have you been thinking, she said warily.
Silence. Then his voice was nearer, deeper, more definite.
That you are not what you say you are.
Her breath was caught in absolute stillness.
And the more I see you, he said, the more I am sure.
The fingers of Queen Ella clenched on the material of the sheets. Stay calm. Stay composed. Do not react. But her heart was false, and beat quicker, noisier, perilous.
And then he spoke again, right behind her, close enough for her to feel his presence without turning.
So speakest me. A silence, heavy and inevitable. Who are you, Ella?
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9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
9.1
Cora crash-landed her escape pod on a brutal alien planet, only to be immediately hunted by a massive six-eyed beast.
A colossal black wolf dropped from the canopy and crushed the beast's neck to save her. But before she could even breathe, the wolf transformed into a towering, naked primitive man with glowing gold eyes.
He hauled her back to his savage tribe, where she was instantly treated like garbage. The women sneered at her fragile human body, and the men eyed her like fresh meat.
The tribe leader's jealous daughter even handed her a waterskin laced with a terrifying alien breeding drug, hoping to turn Cora into a mindless spectacle of lust in front of the entire settlement.
"Drink. You look like you're dying," the daughter sneered, waiting for Cora to lose her mind.
Cora was terrified and completely out of her depth. She didn't understand why this lethal Alpha warrior looked at her with such dark, consuming possessiveness, or why he was willing to slaughter his own people just to protect her.
How was a stranded human supposed to survive in a terrifying world where every plant, beast, and local wanted her dead?
"BEEP! Critical Warning! Liquid contains high concentrations of alien aphrodisiac herbs," her implanted AI assistant suddenly echoed in her skull.
Looking at the hostile tribe and the fiercely protective Alpha shielding her, Cora silently activated her tech interface. She wasn't just going to be a helpless pet in this savage world.
9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
8.3
Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket.
The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett.
I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it.
Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice.
"What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there."
I turned toward the window and said nothing.
This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely.
The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique.
He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate.
"Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too."
I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand.
What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.
8.6
Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death.
My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck.
It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack.
My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man.
Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger.
"No one should ever touch what is precious to you."
His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate.