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 made her way back, cold and vulnerable, the tunic twice her size hugging her small frame.

The urge to rip the thing to shreds because it smelled like him was so tempting but that would leave her with nothing left to wear.

He probably did this on purpose knowing she couldn't get rid of it.

The disgust she felt, the burn in her chest, she was on the verge of exploding. She let him have his way... and she was just as much responsible for it.

Her body did not listen to her.

The overwhelming guilt and shame attempted to drown her, she told herself she wouldn't play his games but she played right into his fingers like he had engraved it in stone.

Her nipples were hurting, a reminder of everything she shouldn't think about. They rubbed uncomfortably on the material and disgusted her further.

The sound of a croak startled her. Lifting her gaze she found a raven perching on the hallowed tree.

The Presence In The Mirror