Abamsky

He’s the cursed King of the Night.
She’s the last omega prophesied to break him.

Selene has been hiding her scent, her power, and her past. But the moment Valerian—the cold, dangerously seductive Night King—catches her scent, the hunt begins.

He claims her with one bite.
She burns him with one touch.

Bound by fate. Torn by secrets. Their desire is forbidden… but irresistible. And in the dark palace of the damned, passion could save them—or unleash hell itself.

Fated to Night king

Selene clung to Valerian as the shadows enveloped them, a cold rush of air sweeping over her skin like a second heartbeat. They emerged in a narrow corridor deep beneath the castle—one she hadn't seen before. The walls bled red light from the runes etched into the stone, and the air was thick with power.

Valerian didn't speak. His grip on her hand was unbreakable, his eyes ahead, sharp and unrelenting.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice small against the silence.

"The Shadow Spine," he replied. "A tunnel carved by ancient magic—only those of royal blood can walk it."

His words echoed with a weight she hadn't expected. Royal blood. It was easy to forget that Valerian wasn't just a vampire—he was the vampire. The cursed heir. The last of his line.

"Valerian," she said softly, "what happens if they catch me?"

She stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "Tell me."

He looked down at her then, his face carved in shadow. "They won't just kill you, Selene. They'll drain your soul into the Stone of Binding. You're no longer just an omega to them. You're prophecy incarnate."

And yet, even in the face of death, her heart was steady. Because being near him made her feel alive. Not safe—never safe—but seen.

"I would rather die in your arms than live in a world where I don't know your touch," she whispered.

He gritted his teeth. "Don't say that."

"Because I'm trying not to fall in love with you."

Silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Then, slowly, she reached up, cupped his cheek, and said, "Too late."

Their lips met again—but this time, the kiss wasn't about hunger. It was surrender. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her close, and her fingers gripped the collar of his coat. Around them, the magic of the tunnel pulsed with approval, the old runes flickering with golden light.

Then—boom—a tremor rocked the passage.

"They've found the outer wall," Valerian muttered, pulling back. "We're running out of time."

They moved fast now, Selene barely keeping pace. They passed ancient doors sealed with blood magic, stone guardians with hollow eyes, and echoes of history that whispered warnings. At last, they reached a chamber at the end of the path—a circular room with a raised altar.

At its center stood a mirror of blackened glass.

Valerian took a knife from his coat and sliced his palm. As his blood touched the altar, the mirror shimmered.

"This is a crossing mirror," he said. "It'll take you somewhere safe—beyond the Blood Realm."

She stared at it. "You're not coming?"

"I can't. If I pass through, it'll shatter. Only you can go."

"No," she said firmly. "I'm not leaving without you."

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Selene, listen to me. You're the omega that carries time. The one who breaks the curse. You were born to outrun this fate. But if you die here—"

"I won't," she interrupted. "Not if we face it together."

A howl echoed through the tunnels. The Night Guard was coming.

Valerian's face twisted with pain. "Then stay close. If we're going to survive this, you'll need to learn how to fight."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

And just like that, she was no longer just the hunted. She was a flame. A fighter. A key in the lock of destiny.

He handed her a blade—silver and obsidian. "This belonged to my sister. She died protecting me. Now it protects you."

She gripped the hilt. "Let them come."

Above, the throne room shook. Below, prophecy stirred in their bones.

Together, they turned toward the enemy.

Chapter 14