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 28 – Bloodlines and Betrayals

The mountain roared behind them as they fled the Circle of Fangs—stones shifting, wind howling through ancient cracks like the wails of a hundred broken souls. Valerian didn't stop, not even as magic burned into the back of his spine from stepping inside the oathbound ring. Carrying Selene in his arms, he moved through shadows like he belonged to them.

"Where are we going?" she breathed, trembling in his hold.

"But nowhere is safe anymore, is it?" Her voice was small but steady, and it pierced him deeper than any blade.

"No," he admitted. "Not even in my arms."

That truth hurt. Because he wanted to protect her. Wanted to be the place where the world couldn't touch her.

But now she glowed with moonlight, her scent laced with the ancient song of prophecy. She was no longer just a rare omega. She was something older. Something born to end kings—or crown them.

They emerged from the mountains into the Dead Garden, a field of black thorns and white blossoms that only bloomed in cursed soil. Here, the moonlight didn't touch the ground. Only the dead things thrived.

Valerian set Selene down. She swayed slightly, her legs trembling from the aftershock of the council's circle.

"I remember something," she said, staring at the ruined altar at the garden's edge. "Not all of it. But... someone betrayed me once."

His breath caught. "Betrayed you?"

"Yes." Her fingers hovered over a vine of thorns that pulsed faintly with her touch. "They bound me in silver and left me to burn. And then... I think I chose to forget."

Valerian didn't speak. Because he knew.

He hadn't stopped it. He had watched, chained by his own duty, while they shattered her soul. He had believed the lies—until he tasted her scent beneath the blood moon and felt it pull on something buried deep within his own curse.

"You're remembering too fast," he said, voice low. "It could drive you mad."

"Maybe I need to go mad to understand why I feel like I've died before."

She stepped toward him. "Valerian. What aren't you telling me?"

So she touched his chest—over his heart—and whispered, "I can feel it. Your guilt."

"I was weak," he said finally. "I let them destroy you."

She leaned in and whispered, "Then don't let them do it again."

And just like that—he kissed her.

Not with hunger. But with something far more dangerous: devotion.

His lips tasted of shadows and old vows. Hers of prophecy and ash. The moment split something in the world.

And far below, where even the stars dared not look, something else stirred.

Another throne. Another power. Another bloodline.

In the ruins of a forgotten crypt, a woman cloaked in crimson touched a mirror of bone and smoke and smiled.

"She's awakening," the woman said to no one. "Good. The Night King is falling in love with her all over again."

She turned. Her eyes were white fire.

"And this time, he'll die for it."

Ready for Chapter 29, guys? It'll be even longer, darker, and steamier. 💛🖤