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

Selene stood at the edge of the Blackwood cliffs, her white nightgown soaked by the mist curling from the sea below. The wind carried whispers—his whispers. Valerian's voice was like smoke on her skin, and she could feel his presence even though he was nowhere in sight.

The mark on her shoulder pulsed again. It had changed. No longer just a symbol of their bond—it had grown darker, intricate, thorned. A new curse, or a deeper prophecy?

Behind her, footsteps approached. She didn't need to turn to know it was him.

"I told you not to follow me," she whispered.

"I never listen when it comes to you," Valerian said, appearing from the shadows, his dark cloak flowing behind him like night itself. His eyes glowed faintly with hunger—not just for blood, but for her, for truth, for the answers that tormented them both.

Selene turned, face lit by moonlight. "The stars are aligning again. The priestess said if we don't sever the bond—"

"She's lying," he cut in. "She fears what we are."

"She said the night would burn red if we stayed together."

"It always burns red," he murmured. "We were never meant to live safe, Selene. Only meant to burn."

She took a step toward him, her heart a storm of war and want. "You said there was more. That you remembered something else. Tell me."

Valerian's face darkened. "I remember the vow I made. Long before you were born. To never love again. And I remember breaking it the second I saw you."

Then—"What happened to the last omega you marked?"

The question splintered the air between them.

His fangs twitched behind his lips. "She died because she refused the bond. You're different. You crave the tether even when you deny it."

Selene's body tensed, part fear, part ache. "Do you think I'll die too?"

Valerian stepped forward, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "No," he whispered. "I think you'll live—and burn everything down."

Suddenly, the air tore with wings—black-winged vampires descending from the sky. The Crimson Guard.

Valerian shielded her. "They know about the oath."

"What oath?" she asked, breathless.

"The Crimson Oath," he said, his voice like thunder. "The blood vow I made the night I defied the Court. The night I became the Night King."

She stared at him, realization cracking her open.

But now the Crimson Guard were circling, and the sea beneath the cliffs roared with ancient magic.

Valerian turned to her, lips barely touching hers. "If we leap, we vanish. If we stay, we die."

Selene nodded once. "Then we burn."

Together, they jumped—into the mist, into prophecy, into the story that had always been waiting to claim them.

Chapter 32