Faking Love To Save The General

Chapter 6

Word Count: 760 | Released on: Today at 15:46

int flinch. His hands froze in m

econd was all

rriage doorframe. She ignored the blinding pain radiating from her an

ior of the carriage, bringing the smell of str

shut behind her, cutting off the

stunned by the sheer

d reflexes were fa

herself up from the plush vel

ul hand clamped a

ne hit the polished walnut paneling

ttle light coming through the curtains. His grayish-blue eye

y suffocating. Their bodies were forced t

ed to tilt her head back, her mouth open

losed, the pathetic, lovesick

sly wide with fake adoration, narrowed into sharp, icy dag

nor caught Daryl off guard. The fingers tighteni

stead, she reached up and grabbed his thick wrist

d spoke in a breathless

wmen. Hidden in the rafte

er words struck him like a physical blow. The West Corridor was

the high ground and armor-piercing bolts," she hissed, her words rushing out in a desperate, urgent s

ed into tiny, black pinpricks. The

nuckles turning stark white as his combat instincts w

His voice was a low, dangerous r

ressure on her throat. The corners of her m

see a hero die like a sl

ist pounded agains

muffled by the thick wood. "Do yo

ulah flipped

, General! Have mercy on my poor heart!" she wailed, making

m a cold-blooded intelligence operative back into a hysterical fan

s options in

y released

a pristine, white silk handkerchief. He wiped his leather glove wit

ts icy, emotionless baseline. "Escort this 'fright

en from the outside. Bright sun

d her dirty hands over her face, her shoulders s

ms and hauled her up, dragg

peeked through the gaps in her fingers.

Chapter End

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Faking Love To Save The General

Fei Se Fantasy

“For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer. He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else. When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg. Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death. As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career. I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived. I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance. Then, I opened my eyes. I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self. Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled-the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power. I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage. "I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig." I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.”