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 19: The Council's Blood Oath

Deep beneath the obsidian foundations of the Night King's castle, where no sunlight had ever dared to reach, the crypt trembled with a heartbeat long forgotten. The Council of the Undying—seven immortals who once ruled the realms before Valerian was ever crowned—stood in a circle of cracked thrones.

Each one was cloaked in shrouds of ancient flesh and starlight dust. Bones wrapped in cursed vellum, hearts pulsing only when the old prophecies stirred.

"She kissed him," croaked Eldra, the seer who stitched omens from the wind. "The Omega has reawakened her soul."

"Selyra walks again," hissed Morvain, dragging skeletal fingers through a pool of shadowed blood. "And with her… the prophecy breathes."

"No," said Halrik, the executioner. "The prophecy burns."

Their leader—an entity only called Father Silence—raised his withered hand. And silence, indeed, fell.

"We swore an oath," he whispered. "If the cursed king and the golden omega were to ever awaken together, we would rise. To correct fate's mistake."

"But what if they are the correction?" Eldra whispered, voice full of fear. "What if this time… they are right?"

Then a single answer: "Then the world itself is wrong."

Selene twisted in the sheets, breath still shallow from the kiss that had altered the sky. Valerian sat at the edge of the bed, watching the glow pulse faintly under her skin.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, voice laced with fatigue and fright. "Why does everything feel different now?"

"Because you're no longer who you were," he said gently. "The stars remember you. The crypts remember you. And now the Council will wake."

He turned his gaze away, jaw tight. "The ones who ruled long before I was ever cursed. They feared your kind—your power—because once, you tore through dimensions just to find me."

"You, Selene. As Selyra. Queen of light. Omega of fury."

She sat up. "Why don't I remember?"

"Because you asked to forget," he whispered. "To live again. As mortal. As soft. As new."

Selene's eyes filled with tears. "And now I've ruined everything, haven't I?"

"No." Valerian reached for her, fingers brushing her collarbone. "You've started everything."

Outside the castle, a storm gathered—not in the clouds, but in the veins of the earth.

The wolves in the far North howled toward the moons.

The river Orakai reversed its flow.

And in the House of Sablelight, the Oracle opened her eyes and wept. For she'd seen the moment fate would fracture again.

Father Silence stood before a mirror forged from the bones of fallen angels. Within it, the image of Selene shimmered—golden-eyed, radiant, burning like the sun in midnight's arms.

"She will burn the world," murmured Morvain.