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

Chapter 15: The Mark Beneath the Moonlight

Selene's breath caught in her throat as she stared into Valerian's eyes, the air thick with a silence that didn't belong to the world she'd known. In this ancient chamber of moonlit stone, every heartbeat echoed like prophecy.

He hadn't let go of her hand since the binding kiss. Her skin still sizzled with the memory of his mouth. But now—now, something older than desire pressed down upon them.

"You feel it too," Valerian said, voice like velvet thunder. "The shift."

Selene nodded slowly. The mark on her shoulder burned—the omega seal she'd hidden her entire life was now awakened, glowing faintly under her skin like moonlight trapped beneath flesh.

"I thought... I thought I could hide it," she whispered. "Even from you."

"You were never meant to hide," he said, stepping closer. "You were meant to burn."

The ancient prophecy was clearer now: When the Moon's Curse meets the Night's Flame, fate shall awaken in blood and bond.

Selene was the cursed omega with the forbidden lineage. And Valerian—the Night King—was the one fated to end her or bind her forever.

But fate, they were learning, didn't play by rules.

They fled the palace under shadow—Valerian with his cloak drawn, Selene cloaked in illusion. Somewhere behind them, the Council was already stirring. They would not accept a cursed omega at the side of the Night King. The last time it had happened, a kingdom fell.

"I've been hiding my whole life," Selene murmured as they rode through the trees. "But I'm tired of hiding. I want to know why I was cursed."

Valerian's eyes burned brighter than fire. "Then we'll go to the one place curses began. The Bloodhound Monastery."

Selene's breath hitched. "That place is a myth."

"It was," he said. "Until the night I saw you in that elevator. The scent of your fear, the shimmer of your soul—I knew something long-buried had returned."

The journey was treacherous. As night wore on, ghost winds howled through forgotten woods. Shadows moved where no men walked. And something—someone—was following them.

Selene woke from a dream of a woman burning on an altar, screaming her name.

"What is it?" Valerian asked when he saw her trembling.

"I remembered a name," she said. "And it wasn't mine."

Valerian's expression turned unreadable. "You're remembering the past. That means the seal's breaking faster than I thought."

Selene clenched her fists. "I want to remember. Even if it kills me."

He cupped her cheek, voice low. "It might."

When they reached the Bloodhound Monastery, the moon turned blood-red overhead.

The gates were sealed by ancient silver, and the scent of ash and prophecy stained the air.

A robed woman stepped forward, face hidden by shadows.

"You bring her here?" the woman whispered to Valerian. "You know what she is."

"I also know what I am," Valerian said coldly.

"She is the harbinger," the woman said. "The cursed flame. If she remembers, the Night King will fall."

Selene stepped forward. "Then I'll burn the truth out of this place."

The woman's eyes met hers—and something cracked in the air.