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

The wind caressed Isadora's face, the few strands of her hair brushing against her cheeks.

The sound of the wriggling bridge filled the air as her body swayed back and forth, yet her balance remained firm.

Slowly, she opened her eyes just when the tip of a wooden sword charged toward her face, with a swift swing she knocked it away with hers. Dodging the rest of it speeding toward her.

Everything was slow before her eyes and she was able to adapt.

The wriggling bridge did not dull her movements, she became one with it, allowing the unstable platform to guide her.

The sound of wooden swords clashing in a spar echoed through the air, drowned by the heavy gusts of wind veering through.

Isadora stopped two hits, one aimed at her neck and the other at her side. Her grip tightened around her weapon as she pushed away, stumbling back but quickly finding her footing.

Sparring With An Audience