Alancaster

“It’s not the stars that hold my destiny, I do.”

Nesrin had lived a life which was never truly hers, she followed the path laid for her by others to fit in and to make everyone happy. She was a school prodigy, and pursued a career in the medical line as per her mother's wish. But this kind of life was suffocating her, and so when her last day came there was no grief, but her heart was full of so many regrets.

Just when she thought everything would end, Nesrin found herself in the life of a character from her favorite novel. However, even in this world her fate was already decided. She has transmigrated inside a character that lives a short life and dies tragically.

This time she will not be bound by her destiny. She will pave her own path and live the life she has always dreamt of.

However, a life inside the palace is not as easy as it seems. This world of fantasy is much harsher than the world she came from. Can she really uphold her bold words?
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"You are the worst" he whispered against her ear, "The worst kind of person who makes me feel so right, so out of control"

When she didn't protest, he leaned in closer to her and touched her lips with his. That was all-just a touch, small, soft and teasing tempting touch. His gaze lifted to meet hers.

"But if I can see you like this...this look on your face as if you want it all. I don't mind practicing a little control."

Nesrin wanted to run away, he was like a fire that could devour her whole. She knew it would lead to no good endings, but a small part of her wanted to see how close she could get to this fire without burning.
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[The cover picture is not mine and has been taken from pinterest, all credit goes to the respective owner.]

The Tyrant's Accidental Consort

New Book Out! A tale of forbidden love, and courtly intrigues~

Enchanting The Cruel Prince

The darkness melted her tension and wariness, she found herself drifting off to unknown dreams as she became numb to the pain or the warmth that left her too soon.

Her thoughts went back to Izekiel once again. Only in her dreams was she able to let her guards down, to let her heart beat for him.

Nesrin was nestled in soft thick blankets but none of them could fend of the cold that seeped into her very blood. Her breaths were low, labored, and shallow.

But his hand in hers was warm. It was like a soothing calm to her delirious thoughts, a lullaby to her restless mind.

"Promise me," his gentle voice asked.

She whispered, her exhausted self could not make out sense from his words or endure the torment they brought with them.

Izekiel was silent for a while, as if choosing the right words but his silence caused her wary heart to slowly sink.

The Red Witch