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 23: The Throne of Blood and Moonlight

Valerian knelt before her, the ancient obsidian throne looming behind him like a silent witness to fate. The vault's air was thick with magic — old, restless, and hungry. The runes that pulsed along the stone walls glowed brighter with every beat of Selene's heart.

She reached for him, trembling only slightly as her fingers brushed the curve of his jaw. "Why are you kneeling?"

He lifted his eyes, shadows swirling in the silver of his irises. "Because if I do this... you will become queen of a cursed realm. You'll carry my mark not just as a mate, but as ruler beside me. You'll share my crown, my blood, my curse."

Bound by ancient magic and a prophecy neither of them fully understood.

Selene stepped closer. Her bare feet kissed the stone floor, and the moment her skin touched the ancient runes, the air crackled around her. The vault seemed to sigh — not with relief, but recognition.

As if it had been waiting for her.

She cupped his face, tilting his gaze toward hers. "Valerian, I was born under a blood moon. I've always known I wasn't normal. I've always felt... like something was waiting for me. Maybe this is what I've been waiting for."

His lips parted, eyes searching hers for doubt. He found none.

"Then say the words," he whispered. "If you mean it, say them. And the bond will awaken completely."

Selene nodded. Her voice was quiet but steady. "I bind myself to you, Night King. In darkness and in light. In curse and in fire."

Valerian rose, his power unfurling like wings behind him. The bond surged between them, ancient and sacred. His hand found the curve of her neck again — right where he'd marked her — and he pressed his lips there, murmuring the old language of the Night Court.

Selene gasped, staggering. But she didn't scream. She clenched her teeth as heat spread through her veins like wildfire, crawling under her skin, branding her soul.

When the pain faded, a strange silence fell.

Valerian looked at her — truly looked — and there was something different in his eyes.

"You're not just bonded to me," he said. "You've awakened something... older. The curse is shifting."

Selene touched her neck. The mark was no longer red. It was silver — glowing faintly like moonlight trapped beneath skin.

The vault doors groaned open behind them, and one of Valerian's guards stumbled in, pale as snow.

"My King—" he panted. "They know. The council felt the surge of power. They know you've taken a mate."

Selene stepped forward. "Then let them come."

The guard blinked. "You don't understand, my lady. The council isn't sending messengers. They're sending hunters."

Valerian growled low in his throat. "Let them try."

He took Selene's hand and guided her up the steps of the obsidian throne. The moment she sat beside him, something clicked in the room — like a puzzle piece sliding into place.

But across the realms, a storm had been unleashed. The Night Council had always feared prophecy, but now it had a face — a silver-marked omega who could rise beside a cursed king.