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's scream was swallowed by the wind as she plummeted alongside Valerian into the ocean's gaping mouth. The night above burst with crimson lightning, illuminating the angry shadows of the Crimson Guard circling like vultures. But the sea didn't swallow them whole—it opened for them.

A whisper of ancient magic curled around their bodies as they hit the water, not with bone-shattering force, but with a strange softness—like falling into breath itself. Cold. Silent. Timeless.

Selene gasped for air, but her lungs filled with warmth instead of salt. The ocean had shifted, become something else—not water, not spirit, but memory. She blinked and found herself… standing. The sky was gone. The cliffs, gone. Valerian was beside her, dripping but calm, his dark hair pressed to his skull, eyes burning with something unreadable.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He didn't answer at first. His gaze scanned the strange horizon—a boundless, glowing sea under their feet, reflecting no stars, only echoes.

"We're in the Aetherdepth," he finally said. "The place where blood vows live."

"It means the Crimson Oath is waking."

Suddenly, a flicker in the distance—ghostly figures emerging from the glow. Selene squinted. There were hundreds… no, thousands. Omegas. Vampires. All translucent. All staring. And in the center of them, a woman in a white veil, her presence pulsing like a drumbeat in Selene's head.

"My mother," Valerian said grimly.

The woman lifted her veil. She was beautiful. Terrible. Her fangs shimmered like pearls, and her eyes glowed like embers beneath snow.

"Valerian Draven," she said, her voice echoing through the liquid air. "You broke the chain."

"I shattered it," he replied without flinching. "And I'd do it again."

Selene stepped forward, breath catching. "Why are we here?"

The veiled queen looked at her. "Because you are the end of the curse."

"The one that has bound our kind for a thousand years. The Crimson Oath was forged in betrayal. A vampire king fell in love with an omega, and his people cursed him for it. Every omega since… has borne the weight. But you, Selene, are the last."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

Valerian stepped behind her, gripping her arms. "You don't have to. Just choose."

"To bind with me, here. Forever. No priest. No ritual. Just blood and truth."

Selene's eyes welled with tears. "And if I don't?"

The veiled woman raised her hand. "The curse remains. Your world will fall."

Selene turned to Valerian. "If I do this… I become yours?"

"No," he said, his voice hoarse. "You become ours. We become something the world has never seen."

Then, slowly, Selene lifted her wrist. "Do it."

Valerian bit his own thumb and drew a symbol in the air—an ancient rune that shimmered with blood-light. Then, gently, reverently, he pressed his mouth to her wrist and whispered into her skin:

And every ghost in the Aetherdepth bowed.

Selene fell into Valerian's arms, but she wasn't weak—she was radiant. Transformed. The last omega was no longer prey.

Chapter 33