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Throne of desires: my uncle, my sinful mate Novel Cover

Throne of desires: my uncle, my sinful mate

"I sat on his lap, my face inches from his, my breath unsteady, his heat pressing against me as his eyes held mine. He dropped the cigar into a tray, leaned in, and his lips almost touched mine, but at the last moment I shifted, pulling back, and his low chuckle rumbled against my skin. "Oh, girl, you do not want to go down that path," he said, his fingers tracing down the line of my neck, sending shivers racing through me, until suddenly he stilled, his hand brushing against the tattoo marked into my skin. He leaned in closer, reading aloud in a low voice. "Jareth Gleb." The name froze the air between us. "That's... my father's name," I whispered, my breath shaky, and the moment the words left me, I saw the shock flash across his face. He grabbed my shoulders, pulling me off his lap so fast I stumbled. "What did you just say?" His eyes widened, burning with disbelief. "You mean, Jareth Gleb is your goddamn father?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Paris was born of divine blood, a Zara Spiritborn, daughter of beauty and seduction itself. Her face could stop hearts, her presence could ruin men. After losing her parents, she fell under the rule of her cruel stepmother, Selene, who turned her beauty into a weapon. By day, Paris was a princess. By night, she was the realm's most desired stripper, dancing for masked Alphas who would pay mountains of gold just to touch her. Betrayed by the boy she loved and sold to Vincent the mad king, unknowingly to pay off a debt, only to discover that this tyrant is none other than her father's brother. A man whose cruel hands are capable of untold violence and unspeakable desire. But passion bends every law, every taboo. Vincent finds himself falling for Paris is his niece and the only woman he should never desire but yet cannot resist.
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Chapter 3

PARIS POV

I pressed the warm fabric to my tender eyes and began to pack, whispering to myself that perhaps the trip would help me forget Mason. Of course, I knew the truth. The only reason I was going was because Selene had ordered it, and whatever awaited me at the end of this journey was never going to be anything I agreed to.

So I took my trunk downstairs and there she was, Selene, wearing her usual black dress, her familiar red lips with Lily standing next to her, quiet and observant as always.

Lily reached for my bags and comfortably took them without saying a word, and Selene commanded that I hop in. But just as Selene and Lily moved to follow, a voice cut through the morning air, and my heart stopped because it was Mason. He came from the shadows like he had been waiting, his face pale, his eyes restless, and he said he wanted to join the journey.

Selene attempted to block him, her body tense with rage, but he did not relent. He stood there speaking words I couldn't hear, and whatever he was saying made her stop, finally she nodded and stepped aside, and he entered the car with me like nothing had happened.

Lily slid into the driver's seat, Selene took her place in the front, and I was stuck in the back with him. The hours in the car were a suffocating stretch of silence. Mason sat so close his shoulder brushed mine, but I kept my eyes on the trees outside, wondering if I had been a fool to love him.

And as the miles mounted behind us, I thought maybe his father was right, maybe there had been a good reason why he never wanted us together, maybe he had seen the betrayal before I did, and in that moment I almost hated myself more than I hated Mason because I had loved him enough to keep my eyes closed.

As the car passed through the iron gates, I felt a change in the air. Guards positioned at the entrance were attentive, with their hands casually sitting on their weapons, they moved toward us the moment we came to a stop.

Though they asked no questions, they ordered us to exit the vehicle while I followed  as they led me into the building.

The hallways were tall and dark, the walls lined with old banners, making me feel smaller with every step. The guards ushered us directly to a room, the heavy doors creaking shut behind us, and finally the snap of the doors closing sat like a weighted rock in my stomach.

Selene turned to me. "I will speak with the Mad King first. I will return to you after."

My blood ran cold and the words burst from me before I could stop them. "The Mad King? This, this is his house? Selene, why didn't you tell me?"

She turned her head slowly, her smile thin and cruel. "If I had told you, would you have agreed to come?"

My voice rose with panic. "No! I would never have come!"

Her eyes flashed and she snapped back. "Then shut the fuck up and get dressed. You perform tonight. You go in there, you dance, and you do whatever he tells you to do."

The ground tilted under me, fear clawing at my throat, but I managed to choke out, "What if something happens? You know that man is not right in the head, he's wicked, Selene. You cannot make me..."

Selene moved close enough that I could feel her breath on my face, and her tone was icy. "If you do a good job, he will not harm you. You are a pretty girl. I know you will do fine. Do not show him fear." She turned on her heel, her dress flowing, and left my sight with not another word.

I stood there shaking, anger coursing through my veins until it hurt. I wanted to scream, I wanted to scratch the walls, I wanted to say Selene's name in vain until my throat bled, but more than I acted by energy, I was weighed down from fear.

The tears stung, but I brushed them aside with the back of my hand. I was weak from traveling for so long, and my head felt heavy. But I pulled out the gown Selene had picked for me, black silk with a slit cut high on the thigh, and forced myself into it. My hands were shaking as I gathered the straps and pinned my hair.

I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, forcing my hands to stay steady, when the door swung open and Mason slipped in without even knocking.

For a heartbeat, I thought he had come to plead, to beg forgiveness, to spill apologies and half-truths the way broken men always did. But the look in his eyes wasn't remorse.

It was anger.

His gaze dragged over the dress clinging to my body, slow and burning, like he had the right to claim what he saw.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he demanded. "That you were stripping? Dancing naked for men in that club? How long have you been letting them look at you like this?"

I stood so fast and yelled. "Get out," I snapped, pointing at the door.

He didn't move.

"Paris, answer me," he said, stepping closer. "How could you let yourself fall so low? I loved you, and you..."

I laughed, sharp and hollow, cutting him off. "Loved me?" I said. "Is that what you call it, Mason? Was it love when I walked in and found you in bed with my stepmother? Was it love when you kissed her?"

His face was drained of color. "That wasn't..."

"Don't bother lying," I hissed, lifting my chin, locking my eyes on his. "You betrayed me. And now you want to judge me?"

I shook my head slowly. "You don't get that right. Not anymore."

He stared at me like he wanted to argue, but something in my tone made him hesitate. I wasn't fighting him. I was already somewhere else.

His breathing grew heavier, his gaze dropping to the slit of my dress, the curve of my thigh. "You can't go in there like this," he muttered. "Not to him."

I almost smiled not because it amused me, but because it confirmed what I already knew.

"Why not?" I said lightly. "Maybe I'll have fun with the king tonight."

I tilted my head, watching his face carefully.

"After all... I was chosen."

The word landed between us like a blade.

His brows furrowed. "Chosen?" he repeated. "Paris, what are you talking about?"

I didn't answer.

Instead, I stepped closer, my heels clicking against the floor, my voice calm even as my heart thundered. "You wouldn't understand," I said softly. "You never did."

His nostrils flared. "Don't say things like that," he snapped. "You'll regret it."

I stopped inches from him, close enough that he could feel the distance I'd already put between us.

"No," I said. "You'll regret it. You'll regret cheating. You'll regret losing me."

My eyes held his, steady and unflinching.

"But you won't be able to stop it."

For a moment, silence burned between us. His expression twisted, desire tangled with anger, confusion flickering beneath it and for the first time, he looked like a man who knew he was already too late.

The door swung open.

Selene's perfume flooded the room before her voice followed. "Enough."

Her eyes flicked to Mason with cold disdain. "Leave."

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but her stare silenced him, and after a long, tense pause, he stormed past her, his shoulder brushing mine like he wanted me to feel his presence one last time.

Selene turned to me, her smile wicked and satisfied. "The king is ready to see you. Fix your face, Paris. He does not like weakness."

~~~~~~~~~

I stood still at the heavy set of doors, my palms slick, my legs trembling underneath the weight of what lay behind them, and for a moment, I thought I might faint before I knocked.

But then I pushed my knuckles into the door and felt the sound echo like a drum through the hallway. A deep voice rolled from inside, a voice that crawled over my skin. "Enter."

My hand was unsteady on the handle, but I pushed and the doors opened wide. I stepped in, the heels of my shoes clicking against the stone while each click contributed to the vast silence, and the noise caused me to lift my chin even though my heart beat like a trapped bird.

The room was large, and very large, tall ceilings and thick dark curtains, a room fit for a king, and shadows held their form in every corner.

I told myself I would not fear, my knees would not buckle, because fear is weakness, and Selene had already told me that weakness will kill you here.

Instead, I promised myself that if I used what I had, the charm and the body Selene had forced me to use at the club, I could make this easier. I would turn the ache of Mason's betrayal into a weapon, making him choke on what he had lost. With that thought, I swallowed my fear and forced my hips to sway with every step as I walked toward the bed.

From the shadows, he moved. A tall figure, broad and dangerous, rising from the darkness with a presence that swallowed the room. I was almost breathless, but I managed to keep my smile intact.

The firelight revealed a face too sharp, too handsome, with eyes like burning amber, a jaw cut from stone, and a body built with power that made him look both ruthless and impossibly alluring. He was danger and beauty bound into one, and it terrified me how much it stole my breath.

"So, you're the daughter of Selene," he said in a voice so deep it rumbled through the air. He walked closer to me, and with every step, he seemed to breathe heavier.

"Oh well... such a beautiful one. I heard she has two daughters, and she chose to give up the most beautiful one."

The words hit me, and inside my head a thought clawed and scratched, "does she even consider me her daughter?"

This was not just a performance. This was something else, something worse. My chest felt tight, but I pushed the thought aside; if I let it build, it would show in my eyes and I couldn't show him my fear.

Instead, I let my body curve closer to his gaze, my lips parting as I spoke with the soft, sultry tone that Selene had conditioned in me. "So I am the chosen one," I teased as I tilted my chin.

"Then I suppose I should make myself worth the choice. Tell me, my king, do you like your gifts wrapped in silk?"

His eyes darkened and I thought for a moment I had hooked him, that maybe my charm could bend even this man carved from stone.

Then his mouth curved into a smile that was nothing like Mason's, nothing like any man I had known, and his voice fell heavy as chains.

"Strip."

My king, I'm supposed to just perform for you first, and just maybe..." I started, my voice shaking as I tried to buy time with the lie I had been taught.

He cut me off, cold. "Oh no, darling, you belong to me now; your mother exchanged you to pay a debt."

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