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 27 – The Circle of Fangs

The council chamber was carved into the mountainside, lit only by cold, floating orbs of violet light. The air smelled of old parchment, spilt blood, and power too ancient to name. Selene walked beside Valerian, her bare feet soundless against the black stone floor, but every step felt like thunder in her bones.

Twelve thrones encircled the center—each one forged from the bones of different beasts, gilded in obsidian and moonstone. And in the middle, a carved platform pulsed with magic. A rune glowed on it.

She didn't recognize the symbol, but it called to something buried deep inside her.

"This is the Circle of Fangs," Valerian said, his voice like crushed velvet. "Once you step into the circle, you cannot lie, Selene. Not to them. Not to yourself."

She looked up at him. His face was unreadable, but there was tension in his jaw—like he was holding back more than he was saying.

"Only if you're hiding something."

The dream… the fire… the way the moon had burned through her skin the night she touched the ruins in the forest.

Maybe she was hiding something—but not from them. From herself.

One of the Elders rose. He was gaunt, his face hollow as if it had been carved from ice, eyes pitch black with no whites left.

"Omega Selene of the Lost Line," he rasped, "step into the circle and be known."

Valerian's hand brushed hers before she moved. The smallest touch, but full of meaning.

Immediately, heat crawled up her skin. The rune beneath her feet pulsed, and light snaked up her calves, her thighs, her spine. It felt like truth burrowing into her soul, unraveling the threads she barely understood.

Selene's lips parted. She tried to say her name, but something else came out.

"A daughter of ash… the last echo of the Moonbound Queen."

Gasps rippled through the room. Even Valerian went still.

Selene clapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean to—"

But it was true. She could feel it.

The memory bloomed again behind her eyes—flashes of silver chains, wings, the roar of the night sky torn open. A woman's scream. Her scream. A crown of fire shattering into stars.

The Elder stepped closer. "Do you remember the blood ritual?"

"You will," he said grimly. "Before the next moon."

The rune beneath her flared, and she dropped to her knees. The magic writhed inside her now—no longer subtle, no longer gentle. It wanted out.

Valerian lunged into the circle, pulling her against him as the power burst from her in a wave of lunar flame.

He shielded her with his body. The council was thrown back.

Her breath came in broken gasps. Valerian's arms were wrapped tightly around her. She felt his heartbeat against her cheek. Fast. Uncontrolled.

"You shouldn't have entered the circle," she whispered.

He looked down at her, eyes bright with something fierce and wounded.

"I go where you burn," he said. "Even into fire."

Around them, the Elders stirred, furious and fearful.

"She's awakening," one of them hissed. "The curse… it's waking with her."

Valerian lifted Selene into his arms and turned without permission, striding out of the circle like a storm incarnate.

"Let them fear you," he murmured against her hair. "But I will not."

As the doors slammed behind them, Selene buried her face in his shoulder—and for the first time, she didn't feel like she was running from her power.

And whatever awaited them next… would be written in fate, fire, and blood.