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The villain wasn’t meant to be an emperor—nor was he supposed to be handsome. Yet he hates me, and I don’t know why.

Attending the Academy of the Arcane—a school for the supernatural elite to hone their power—I became a rebel, untouchable and unstoppable. My beauty became both a weapon and a curse, a mocking reminder of the life I’d lost.

Among the whispers and wary stares, one figure cut through the chaos: Tharros, the Emperor of Shadows. The supreme ruler of witches, vampires, werewolves, and fae alike. His cold, burning gaze seared through me, heavy with a hatred that felt almost intimate.

"You made me this way," he snarled, his face a living testament to fury and torment. His presence was a storm I couldn’t escape, and his accusations pierced my soul. Yet I had no memory of him—or the crime he swore I committed.

When I denied his claims, his laughter followed me like a curse.

"You don’t remember? Then I’ll make sure you never forget."

Days later, I awoke as his bride—bound to him by a marriage I never agreed to, shackled to his vengeance. Tharros’ darkness envelops me, threatening to consume everything I am.

Now, I must unravel the secrets of his hatred, the truth about my parents’ murder, and the twisted memories he swears I’ve buried.

Because in this deadly game of vengeance and power, the line between hate and something far more dangerous grows thinner with every heartbeat

Bound To The shadowed alpha

Undeterred, she moved closer, her footsteps light against the floor. When she was mere inches from him, she leaned forward, her face so close to his that she could see the faint creases of a frown forming on his brow.

Nyxoria didn't back away, studying him intently. She wasn't sure what she was looking for—maybe a flicker of recognition, maybe some buried memory—but she stayed close, as if being near him might somehow bring back her memories.

Suddenly, Tharros's hand shot out, wrapping tightly around Nyxoria's neck. His fingers dug into her skin, sharp enough to draw blood. The sting was immediate, but she didn't pull away.

When his eyes snapped open, they were darker than anything she'd ever seen, swirling with shadows that would send even the bravest running. But not Nyxoria.

Instead of flinching or showing fear, she smiled. Even as his grip tightened, the pain radiating from her neck, her grin only widened.

Tharros Story