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 75 – The Assassin's Veil

"Even queens bleed when ghosts come calling."

The wind howled through the ancient halls of the Eastern Watchtower—cold, sharp, and unnatural.

Selene barely blinked as she stepped through the ruined archway. Her boots crushed bones that hadn't yet turned to dust. The Watchtower had once been a sanctuary for the Order of Serephim, a sect long extinct.

"Why are we here?" Valerian's voice echoed in the silence. He stood behind her, his crimson cloak trailing smoke as his power rippled in waves.

Selene knelt, touching a piece of scorched fabric left near the base of the altar. "Because lies leave traces. And the assassin wasn't human."

Three nights ago, someone had slipped past every ward protecting the Blackspire Keep.

Selene had woken with a blade at her throat—one laced with moon-blood silver, poison made for omegas. It hadn't drawn blood. Not fully.

The assassin vanished before Valerian could pin them to the wall with his shadows. All that remained was a whisper:

Now, Selene traced the trail of whoever had dared to challenge the fate she'd begun forging with fire and blood.

"It wasn't a vampire," she said softly, eyes narrowed. "Wasn't a were. It moved like something older."

In the center of the chamber, an iron statue stood—a faceless figure cloaked in chains, mouth open in a scream. Around its base, forgotten symbols were etched into stone.

Selene raised her hand, and the flames at her fingertips revealed the carving:

"I thought they were extinct," he muttered. "Assassins born of curse and covenant. Bred to destroy prophecies before they bloomed."

Selene looked up, fury like stars behind her eyes.

That night, back in the safety of their chamber, Selene paced while Valerian studied the dagger left behind.

"It's not meant to kill outright," he murmured, "just to sever something."

"And if it had worked—" Her voice shook with something raw. "—you'd have died, Valerian."

He crossed the room in an instant, cupping her face, his thumb brushing over the faded scar.

"They would've died before I let that happen."

But Selene wasn't afraid for herself anymore.

There was something else at stake now. Something fragile and new.

Valerian noticed. His eyes widened.

And there it was: a second heartbeat. Faint. Steady.

Far away, in a temple swallowed by ice and forgotten time, a woman cloaked in red stood before an altar of bone.

She dragged a blade across her palm and let the blood drip onto the snow.

A whisper curled from her lips: "The Queen carries the flame-child."

End of Chapter 75 – Next: Chapter 76, The Flame-Child and the Deathroot

The stakes have risen. The ancient enemies have begun to stir. Selene is more than a queen now—she's a mother, and she'll fight worlds to protect what grows within her.