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 26 – Whispers Beneath the Moon

The wind howled across the balcony as Selene stood at its edge, the moonlight catching the silver strands in her hair. Her breath misted in the cold night air, but it wasn't the chill that made her shiver—it was the memory of Valerian's lips on hers, his fangs grazing the softest part of her neck. He hadn't taken her blood, not truly. But he'd taken something else. Something deeper.

She didn't know what to call it. A tether? A mark? A promise?

Behind her, the Night King's chambers were silent. Valerian had left at dusk without a word, summoned by his council of Elders. Something about the borderlands stirring again, the wolves growing restless. Selene didn't trust any of them—not even herself, lately.

That dream… it had felt more like a memory.

Flashes of a battlefield drenched in red. A woman who looked just like her, with blood-soaked hands and golden chains around her wrists. A man in black armor, his face shadowed, his eyes glowing a terrible silver. And a voice—so deep and cruel it carved itself into her chest—whispering:

"She will break the curse or become it."

Selene turned and pressed her palm to her chest. Her heartbeat had changed. Faster. Wilder. She could feel something clawing under her skin, ancient and aching.

Selene turned sharply. Draven stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his shadow tall in the flickering torchlight. He wasn't smiling tonight. The usual arrogance in his posture had melted into wariness.

"I saw what you did to the fire priest," he said. "You shouldn't be standing."

"I wasn't burning," Selene whispered. "I was glowing."

Draven narrowed his eyes. "No. You were becoming."

"That," he muttered, stepping closer, "is what the council is trying to find out."

She stepped back. "They think I'm dangerous?"

The torches in the corridor flickered violently, the shadows on the stone walls dancing like wolves in a frenzy. Draven held up his hands, sensing her panic.

"Selene," he said softly, "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to warn you."

"They're going to test you. Soon. And if you fail—Valerian won't be able to protect you."

Her stomach twisted. "He promised—"

"His promises won't matter if the curse takes hold."

Selene staggered back, her voice cracking. "I don't understand. What curse?"

Draven's expression turned grim. "You're not just some rare omega, Selene. You're part of something older. A bloodline lost. A prophecy buried. They think you're her."

Selene's throat went dry. "Her… who?"

"The Moonbound One," he whispered. "The omega who carries the fate of night and blood."

Before she could speak, footsteps echoed down the hall. Draven vanished into the shadows like mist, leaving Selene breathless and alone.

Then the doors opened—and Valerian stood there, his eyes dark as a storm.

"Come," he said. "They've summoned us both."

And the stars—those cruel, quiet watchers above—were beginning to whisper.