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 83 – The Mark Beneath the Moon

The silence between them was heavy—so heavy that even the wind didn't dare disturb it. Selene stood by the blackened archway, the blood moon casting a deep red shadow over her pale skin, illuminating the faint glow of the mark now etched across her collarbone like a prophecy unveiled.

Valerian stared at it, eyes narrowed with something between awe and terror.

"It wasn't supposed to appear yet," he said quietly.

Selene's voice wavered. "What do you mean? You knew about this?"

He turned from her, hands clenched at his sides. "That mark… it only surfaces when the final tether is snapped—when the fate we've been denying demands to be fulfilled. And once it's visible, there's no undoing it. You're bound to the throne of night, Selene. To me."

Her heart raced. She could feel it—feel him—in every breath she took, like his presence was fused with her bones. Her omega instincts stirred violently, confused by danger and desire colliding in equal measure. She should run. But her feet wouldn't move.

"And if I don't want that?" she asked, eyes blazing despite the fear lacing her voice.

Valerian stepped closer, the silver of his eyes glowing in the red moonlight. "Then the prophecy turns… and blood will follow. There is no gentle escape from fate, Selene."

She looked down at the mark. It shimmered now with a pulse—like it had a heartbeat of its own. A tiny crescent-shaped rune nested in a jagged circle of old magic, one she'd seen in the Night King's hidden library scrawled in a book that no one dared open.

"You kept so much from me," she whispered.

Valerian nodded once. "To protect you. I've seen what happens when prophecy is forced too soon. I didn't want to lose you to it."

Her lips trembled, but she bit back the tears. "And now?"

"Now, there's no time to wait." He stepped even closer. "Now we fight it—or let it consume us."

Thunder rumbled overhead. Selene's breath caught as something ancient stirred in her chest. Her eyes flared silver for a moment—unnatural, bright—and Valerian noticed.

"The shift has begun," he said. "The prophecy isn't just about the throne. It's about bloodlines. The cursed omega who carries the Night King's seed will either end the blood war or unleash the final one."

He moved so close she could feel his breath on her neck. "You've already begun to change, Selene. That mark is the first sign. Your body, your mind, your powers—they're aligning. And there's no one else strong enough to withstand it."

"But I didn't ask for any of this!" she snapped, stepping back. "I just wanted to survive, Valerian. Not become your queen. Not be part of some cursed bloodline."

"I know." His voice cracked with something raw. "But you are."

Her vision blurred as the pressure in her skull built. Visions clawed at the edges of her consciousness again—flashes of the dark throne, of fire, of a child with her eyes and Valerian's power screaming into a void. She staggered, and Valerian caught her before she hit the floor.

"No more running," he whispered, holding her close.

She clung to him then, trembling. The bond that tied them flared so intensely it was almost painful.

A knock echoed from the outer gate.

Valerian stiffened. "They've come."

Selene looked at him, eyes still dazed from the vision. "Who?"

"The Council of Shadows. They've sensed the prophecy has begun. They'll want you dead before you fulfill it."

Selene pushed herself from his chest. "Then we don't run. We burn them first."

A slow smile curved across his mouth—dangerous, proud. "That's my Queen."