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 34: The Crown of Ash and Moonlight

One moment they were wrapped in the womb of the Aetherdepth, souls entwined, the next—Selene gasped, drenched in starlight, her feet skimming the jagged rocks of the storm-battered cliffside. Valerian stood beside her, trembling from more than just the cold. His lips were stained with her blood. Her wrist was healed. But nothing about them was the same.

Selene's mark no longer glowed softly—it pulsed like a living star, its silvery light etched with strange symbols that only the dead and the divine could read.

She touched it. "Valerian… what are we now?"

He turned to her, eyes rimmed with crimson, yet soft in their center. "Fated."

A gust of wind howled across the ruined cliffs. In the distance, the remnants of the Crimson Guard were regrouping, hesitating. Some knelt. Others turned and fled. Because they could feel it now. That she wasn't just the omega anymore. She was the answer.

"We have to go," Valerian said, stepping close. "Before they gather strength again. The Council will feel the bond. They'll come."

"Let them," Selene whispered, breath steaming in the air. "Let them see what they made."

He smirked. "There's fire in you."

Before either could move, a shadow sliced across the moon, then landed between them and the sea with a bone-shattering crash.

But he wasn't alone. Behind him came Eira, her white braids now streaked with blood, and a dozen others—rogue bloodborns, betrayers of the old order. Ravan bared his fangs, red eyes glowing. "You shouldn't have survived, brother."

Valerian took a step forward, drawing a black blade from beneath his coat—obsidian forged in shadowfire. "You shouldn't have followed."

"Oh, but I did," Ravan sneered. "And now I get to kill the last omega and the broken king."

Selene stepped in front of Valerian.

It whispered around her ankles, swirled into her lungs, then erupted outward as a ripple of silver heat. The ground cracked. The very cliff bowed.

"What did you—what are you?" he choked.

"I'm what the curse tried to bury," Selene said softly. "And I'm done being hunted."

She raised her hand—and her mark ignited.

The first wave of light knocked half of Ravan's men off the cliff. The second slammed into him directly, pinning him to the ground, roots of glowing energy wrapping around his limbs like chains forged from prophecy itself.

Valerian's eyes widened. "Selene—"

But she wasn't done. Her voice rang through the night, ancient and unshakable:

> "By the old blood and the buried flame,

I unbind the chains. I break the name.

Let no king rise who walks on pain.

Somewhere, far away, a bell tolled—deep and echoing. The Bell of Bonds. It had not rung in centuries.

Ravan let out a strangled scream as he vanished, torn into ash by the spell. Eira fled.

Selene fell to her knees, drained but not broken.

Valerian rushed to her, cradling her close. "You are prophecy."

"No," she whispered against his neck. "We are."

Above them, the moon turned bloodred.

But now, they would face it as one.