Dy_zamite

[Matured Content]
In a world of gods and Faes. Isadora Skaldwood was born a Fae but of impure blood “mannfae” deemed an inferior creation of the olden gods. Yet at birth she was kissed by the goddess of life and blessed with the ability of a skin weaver, capable of healing any wound or affliction.

Betrayed by her family, she's sold for gain, shipped across the world to a brothel, into the hands of a selfish businessman who exploited her abilities for years. Travelers come to this brothel not to lay with the rumored mannfae but to seek her abilities.

But then everything changed when “He” appeared…

Kraven Val Thrond, widely known as “The Reaper," a terrifying warrior feared by those who dared speak his name. Dangerously handsome, a presence identical to the god of death, silver eyes like the crescent moon—but a mind dipped in madness.

Isadora despises him, not just for stealing her away, but for thrusting her into his world of blood and chaos. He’s insane! But that’s only the cherry on top, his obsession is wicked.

But when he touches her, mix emotions and desires stirs, can a madman feel something?

Of course not!

He's more inclined to kill her than succumb to his desires. He has this "Thirst" and it triggers mostly toward her. Just a kiss is a clear invitation toward death and when he touches her... she might greet the god of death soon.

Have the gods damned her again? They had thrown a Dark Fae toward her way who's obsessed with owning her soul.

But in life, only a mate can claim another soul.

~
(Excerpt)

"What do you even want from me?" Isadora asked, this time more desperate.

"The answer to that question, love," he leaned more until their lips almost touched.

"I really wish there was one," he murmured, before crashing his lips against hers.

Sparks surged through her in waves, but she bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The action seemed to make him stop and she pushed away from him.

Kraven licked his lips, amused and a maddening look in his eyes.

"Go away!" she yelled at him, tears almost building in her eyes.

Why was he making her feel this way? Hatred burned through her veins and yet torn between this was an undeniable pull.

"I will, love.." he replied with a dangerous edge to his tone and an eerily glow to his silver eyes.

"If you can outrun me, first..." he added, taking a step closer and she instinctively took one back.

"Run, Isadora..." he growled, his voice raw and animalistic, like a beast on the verge of unleashing wrath. "...run!"

~

A/N: This is Dark Romance, don't expect a sweet ML!

Extra Tags:
#darkromance
#slowburn
#blood&gore
#morallygreyML
#medieval
#warriors

The cover is mine!

The Reaper's Wicked Obsession

Isadora's pulse quickened, she couldn't begin to think of what he meant by disciplining her and chose to keep it that way.

She didn't want to indulge his absurd ways—it was like his eyes begged her to.

Her mind was suddenly consumed by his earlier words. Her energy was expelled by the thought of gaining freedom—The constant need to grasp something unattainable.

That term was becoming a castle in the sky.

How would she truly find freedom when the world was unkind to her? The danger was in every step she took—not exactly how she imagined it.

Winter after winter, she dreamt of a day when, by the gods' mercy, she would one day be whisked away from that tower.

Every day, she prayed for that fateful day, but it never came.

Maybe it did come but not in the way she intended.

"If anyone gets a glimpse of what I truly am the first thing is to sell me" she voiced in a pained resentful tone.

Dreams Are The Future We Don't Look Forward To