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 17: Beneath the Burning Moon

The dagger dissolved in her hand, not like steel melting—but like it had never been real to begin with. A test. A choice. A prophecy rewritten.

Selene staggered back as the air around them shifted. The chamber walls pulsed with forgotten magic, and Valerian caught her just before her knees gave way.

"You passed," he whispered, voice rough with awe. "You chose not to kill me."

She looked up, sweat beading her brow. "I didn't pass anything. I made a choice—and now the world will respond."

Above them, the moon flared a bloody gold. Below them, the stone beneath the monastery groaned. A presence stirred—ancient and vast. The kind that slept beneath kingdoms and only woke when the timeline split.

"What's happening?" Selene clung to Valerian's chest, feeling the pulse of his heart against hers.

"The bond changed," Valerian said. "You altered fate. The world is… adjusting."

Up through winding staircases and torch-lit corridors, out into the monastery courtyard. The sky split overhead, a halo of crimson fire surrounding the moon. The stars blinked, as if watching with bated breath.

"It's the Harbinger's Eclipse," Valerian said, lifting his hand. "It only happens when the fated omega denies the killing blow."

Selene turned toward the sky—and the moment she did, power surged through her like a tide. Her vision blurred, not from fear, but clarity. The bloodline of Selyra screamed in her bones.

A crown of light bloomed behind her head.

When she woke, she was no longer in the monastery.

She was in a bed carved of obsidian, shrouded in velvet black curtains. The walls glimmered like stars, and a fireplace burned with silver flame.

Valerian sat at her bedside, his head bowed.

"You passed out for three days," he said quietly when she stirred. "You nearly died."

"My chambers. In the capital of the Night Court."

Selene sat up, the memories rushing back. The prophecy. The dagger. The moon. The eclipse. Her power.

"Because the war council will demand answers soon," Valerian said. "And you… you are the answer now."

She stared at him, unblinking. "What do you mean?"

"You're no longer just an omega. You are the Harbinger reborn." He reached for her hand. "And they're going to fear you."

Selene stood, letting the bedsheets fall away. She wore a midnight-blue gown threaded with symbols of the old gods. The silk felt alive against her skin.

"I let fate break me once in another life," she said. "I won't let it happen again."

Valerian's eyes burned like shadowfire. "Then you'll need to learn to rule. Because every kingdom—from the wolves of the South to the phoenixes of the East—will come for you."

Later that night, she stood on the balcony of the Night King's palace.

Below her, the city stretched like a sea of stars—spires carved from onyx and wind, bridges draped in glowing ivy, towers where creatures of myth whispered ancient songs.

And above it all, the second moon rose—black and gleaming, a reminder of the magic she'd awakened.

"You knew," she said softly. "Didn't you?"

He looked at her, wind tugging at his dark hair. "Knew what?"

"That I'd remember Selyra. That I'd hate you at first. That I'd still choose you."

Selene turned to him, eyes bright with tears and fire.

"I don't just choose you, Valerian. I choose us. Whatever we are. Whatever we're meant to become."

His lips brushed hers like a vow. "Then we rise together, my queen."

Because in this new timeline, she was no longer a victim of prophecy.

And the world was about to tremble for her.