5.0
Comment(s)
View
22
Chapters

"I won't marry him," I spat, glaring at my parents. "I'd rather let this town burn." "You'll do as you're told," my father barked. "This marriage is the only way to save us." I wanted to scream, to fight back - but I knew better. So, I swallowed my pride and let them drag me to Prince Darius. I expected arrogance. I expected cruelty. But nothing prepared me for him. Tall, sharp-featured, and infuriatingly handsome - yet his cold, impassive stare froze me in place. "You're not my wife," he said, voice like ice. "You're a debt to be paid. You'll follow my rules, and when I say jump, you'll ask how high. Understand?" My walls shot up immediately. Fine. If he wanted a war, I'd give him one. I refused to break. No matter how dangerously tempting he was.

Chapter 1 One

The cool evening air wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, yet my body was warm with sweat. My muscles ached, but I ignored the burn - I was used to it. Pain was just another voice in the background, one I had long since learned to silence.

I drew another arrow from my quiver, rolling the wooden shaft between my fingers. Its familiar weight grounded me, sharpening my focus. The red mark on the target stood out like a drop of blood against pale wood - a reminder of what I had to hit. I nocked the arrow, pulled back the string, and exhaled slowly.

Thwack!

The arrow sank deep into the center of the red spot, its feathers still vibrating from the force. I smiled faintly, lowering my bow. That was the tenth perfect shot in a row - but I wasn't surprised. I never missed.

I was born to fight. Born to strike with precision. Born to win.

Grabbing another arrow, I aimed again. Determination fueled me - a fire that never seemed to burn out. I couldn't allow it to. There was no room for weakness, no space for failure. I had one goal - and I'd reach it no matter what.

Thwack!

Another perfect shot.

I didn't know how long I stood there, repeating the same motion over and over, each arrow finding its place in the red circle. By the time my quiver was empty, the sky was ablaze with streaks of orange and gold. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the clouds in shades of fire.

I should've gone inside. The Castle wasn't far - my chambers would be waiting, warm and inviting. But instead, I let my bow rest against the target stand and dropped to the grass, stretching out my legs. My body screamed for rest, but my mind wouldn't stop spinning.

I tilted my head back, letting the wind brush over my face. It carried the scent of earth and leaves, but something else caught my eye - a plane gliding through the sky, small and distant, barely more than a silver streak against the fading sunlight.

I watched it move, slow and steady, disappearing behind the clouds.

I exhaled, my chest tightening with longing. What would it be like to sit inside one of those planes? To leave this place - even just for a while - and see something new?

I imagined myself in one of those seats, watching tiny landscapes pass beneath me, feeling weightless and free. No expectations. No duties. No endless training or Castle walls keeping me in check.

Just freedom.

I scoffed under my breath. As if that could happen. People like me didn't get vacations. Warriors didn't get to take breaks - especially not me. I'd spent my entire life preparing for something bigger than myself. There was no room for selfish dreams.

Still... I couldn't help but wish.

For five minutes, I let myself imagine what that life would be like - a life where I wasn't just a fighter, where I wasn't bound to duty and endless battles. Just me, somewhere far away, where no one knew my name.

But dreams like that didn't last long. They couldn't.

With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts away. My gaze drifted back to my training ground - the worn targets, the scattered arrows, the sweat on my palms. This was where I belonged. No matter how exhausting it felt sometimes, this was my purpose.

"Get it together," I muttered under my breath.

Rising to my feet, I began gathering my arrows from the target, tugging them free one by one. Each sharp tug reminded me why I couldn't walk away - why I couldn't afford to give in to thoughts of escape.

Once everything was packed, I slung my quiver over my shoulder and grabbed my bow. The sky had turned darker now, deep shades of purple swallowing the last streaks of gold. The Castle lights flickered in the distance - a quiet reminder that I couldn't stay out here all night.

I started walking back, each step feeling heavier than the last. That flicker of longing still clung to me, like smoke that wouldn't quite clear.

But it didn't matter. No matter how tired I felt or how badly I wanted to run - I couldn't.

I had a goal. A purpose.

And nothing was going to stop me from reaching it.

The Castle gates loomed ahead, their iron curves twisting like vines - dark and unwelcoming. The guards stood at attention as I approached, their eyes flicking away the moment they recognized me. No one dared meet my gaze. They knew better.

I strode through the entrance, boots striking hard against the stone floor. The faint murmurs of maids and servants filled the hallway, but those whispers faded the second they saw me. Faces turned away, bodies shifted aside. No one wanted to be in my path - and I liked it that way.

I wasn't here to play nice. I didn't have time for their pitiful stares or fake smiles. They worked. That was their purpose.

A maid scurried toward me from the far side of the hall, her hands fumbling with a folded towel. She was young - too young to know better, I supposed. Her eyes flickered nervously as she approached, and her voice trembled.

"P-Princess Ivana," she stammered, "I-I can help you-"

"I don't need your help," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut. I barely spared her a glance as I kept walking.

"But... but your clothes," she said weakly, eyes fixed on the sweat-stained fabric clinging to me. "I could run you a bath, or-"

I stopped so suddenly that she nearly tripped over herself. Slowly, I turned to face her.

"Did I ask for a bath?" I asked coldly.

The maid froze, her fingers tightening around the towel. "N-No... but I thought-"

"There's your mistake," I cut in. "I don't need you to think. I need you to know your place."

Her face paled, but I wasn't done. I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear me.

"I don't care about your good intentions," I said through gritted teeth. "Your job is to do what you're told - nothing more. If I want a bath, I'll ask for one. If I want you to clean my boots, I'll tell you. Until then..." I snatched the towel from her hands and shoved it hard against her chest. "Stay out of my way."

Her lips parted like she wanted to apologize, but no words came out. She simply nodded, her head bowed like a scolded child.

"Good," I muttered, turning my back on her.

I felt her eyes on me as I walked away, but I didn't care. Her feelings weren't my concern. None of their feelings were. They were born to work - so they worked. It was that simple.

I climbed the stairs to my chamber, ignoring the servants who scurried past me like frightened mice. The entire Castle knew better than to cross me - and I liked it that way. Respect through fear. That's what kept things in order.

By the time I reached my room, the tension in my muscles had started to ease. Tossing my bag on the floor, I leaned against the door, breathing deeply. The faint scent of lavender reached my nose - someone had been in here while I was training.

"Of course," I muttered bitterly. Another maid, no doubt. Touching my things. Invading my space.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. They were lucky I hadn't caught them. Next time, they wouldn't be.

People like them needed to know their place - and I wasn't about to let them forget it.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma
5.0

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

G~Aden
4.2

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book