Jeya_Rashique

Beneath the surface of Istanbul, in the shadows where the world dares not look, Emir reigns—a ghost, a weapon, a monster carved from betrayal. Abandoned as a child, he learned to survive in the blood-soaked underbelly of power until Kanat, a man with secrets of his own, took him in and forged him into something unstoppable.

Emir knows nothing of innocence. Nothing of softness. Nothing of the daughter Kanat kept hidden from him.

Beren.

Delicate. Sheltered. Too pure for a world like his. She should have never stepped into his underground lair. She should have never seen him like that—hands drenched in blood, eyes as dark as the sins he carries.

Now, she is tangled in his world, a world that will eat her alive.

Unless he teaches her how to survive it.

Unless he makes her just as dangerous as he is.

But some flames burn too close, some shadows whisper too sweetly, and some monsters… aren’t meant to be tamed.

 A dark, intense tale of power, obsession, and love laced with danger. Enter at your own risk.

The Devil's Butterfly

Beren was fire, and Emir was willing to burn.

The room was dimly lit, golden light flickering against the dark walls, casting shadows that danced like devils. The air between them was charged—thick, suffocating, heavy with something unspoken.

Beren stepped back. Emir stepped forward.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing erratic. "You—you're acting insane."

Emir tilted his head, his dark green eyes gleaming under the low light. "Butterfly, you have no idea."

The smirk on his lips wasn't playful—it was deadly. His fingers twitched at his sides, like a beast restraining itself before the final kill. His entire body was tense, coiled, ready to snap.

Beren took another step back, but the wall met her spine. Trapped.

His voice was dark velvet. "Why are you running? You think I'll let you go?"

Her pulse hammered. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin in defiance. "You should."

Emir laughed—low, dark, dripping with danger.

"I should?" His hand came up, fingers tracing the column of her throat before gripping her jaw, tilting her face up to his. "That's adorable."

Beren sucked in a breath. "Emir—"

His grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her breath hitch. Enough to tell her who was in control here.

"Say my name like that again," he murmured, his lips grazing her jaw, his breath scorching.

His nose ran along her skin, teasing, ghosting, never giving her enough. And then—his lips pressed against her pulse point, slow, deliberate.

She gasped, fingers gripping his shirt.

"This," Emir murmured against her skin, "this is what you do to me, Beren. You make me lose control."

His teeth scraped her neck, his tongue following immediately after, soothing the sting. A dark, wicked apology.

Beren's knees almost buckled.

Her mind screamed at her to fight back, but her body—her traitorous, weak body—was melting against him.

She hated him for this.

She hated how he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

"You drive me crazy," Emir growled, his grip tightening, his body caging hers completely.

His lips found her ear, voice dropping into something rough, raw. "And you love it."

And that realization ruined her.

Savage Devotion