ELF_QUEEN

She was never supposed to love him, he was the one person she despised, but for how long could she deny the flutter and Sparks he made her feel.
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She is an assassin, the princess of the witches, sent to marry the Vampire King with one purpose—to kill him and secure her clan’s victory in a war that has raged for centuries. 

He is Rhydian, the brooding king burdened by his father’s bloody legacy, forced into the alliance to protect his people from the looming Dragon Empire.

Rhydian distrusts the witches, while Seraphina resents the vampires, but neither is prepared for what fate has in stall. As they face palace intrigues, ancient prophecies, and brewing rebellion, their indifference begins to shift into something neither expected—love, an emotion they both try to deny, but  is impossible to ignore.

I won't call this an enemies to lovers because she is the only one who hates him, also...this will contain R18 scenes, I'll always highlight that on every chapter so you can skip if you want. 

A/N: I hope you all will stick with me till the end, feel free to check out my other book, I'm in love with a grim reaper, you might like it, I hope you do.
Excerpt;

Her fingers brushed against his forehead before he could react, her warm palms cupping both sides of his face as she studied him intently. His breath hitched at the sudden intimacy, his heart giving an involuntary stutter.

What the hell was she doing?

His gaze traced over her face, mapping every detail—the sharp glint of her violet eyes, the delicate curve of her nose, and her lips... God, her lips. Plump, red, slightly parted as she assessed him. He wanted to taste them again, to claim them fully.

"Your fever seems to be coming down," she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "My blood really did the trick, I see..."

His jaw clenched.

Did she have to check his temperature this way? There were plenty of other ways to do it—ones that didn't involve tempting him with that mesmerizing face of hers.

She started to pull her hands away, but before she could, he caught her wrist, stopping her.

She looked up at him, startled.

"If you wanted to check my temperature, you could've done so in a simpler way," he said, his lips curving into a playful grin. He tugged her closer, his grip firm but gentle. "Are you trying to seduce me, Purple?"

Her heartbeat stuttered against his chest. He could hear it. Feel it.

Then, to his surprise, she didn't pull away.

Instead, a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. She leaned in, her body pressing against his just enough to make his muscles tense.

"What if I am?" she whispered, deliberately biting her bottom lip.

Rhydian's breath caught.

The last of his control snapped.

"You asked for it," he growled.

In the next second, he crashed his lips against hers.

The kiss was deep, desperate, consuming. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the angle as his tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her fully. She responded instantly, matching his hunger with equal fervor.

She wasn't perfect at kissing yet—he could tell she was still learning—but she made up for it with pure intensity, and damn if it didn't make his blood boil.

His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips moved against hers with feverish need. His tongue tangled with hers, teasing, tasting, drinking her in as if she were the only thing that could satiate him.

He bit down softly, drawing a gasp from her, and that little sound sent a violent pulse of arousal straight through him.

He was already rock hard, aching with need.

He hadn't touched a woman since the marriage arrangement was made. Maybe that was why he was losing control so easily. Or maybe it was just her. Maybe it had always been her.

Bound to the vampire I must kill

It didn't hurt, not the way she thought it would. It was sharp, yes, but fleeting… replaced almost instantly by a spreading warmth that pooled beneath her skin like fire made liquid. Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. Not to pull him away...but to keep him close. To anchor herself through the rising wave that crashed into her.

His lips moved against her skin, slow and reverent, like a prayer whispered into her pulse.

She felt every pull, every tremor of restraint he fought to maintain. His body trembled—not from hunger, but from how hard he was trying not to lose himself. Not to hurt her. His hands clenched at her hips, holding her steady, yet so gentle she could hardly feel his grip. The robe she wore slipped down one shoulder as he leaned closer, and the cool air licked her bare skin, contrasting the heat that raged in her core.

She let out a sound, half gasp, half sigh...as her knees buckled slightly.

Tell me what you want