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

BONUS SCENE: The Night He Gave Her the Moon

The cottage in the highlands slept under a blanket of silver fog, except for one window — still glowing.

Selis lay wrapped in a wool blanket before the hearth, curls spilling over her shoulders, eyes half-lidded as the fire flickered low. Valerian had insisted on lighting the room with candles instead of witchlamps. He said the moonlight made her skin look holy.

Now he knelt behind her, strong hands brushing her spine as if committing it to memory. "You're quiet tonight," he murmured, fingers drawing idle circles on her shoulder.

"I'm listening to the world. It's finally not screaming."

Valerian leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "Good. Then let me worship the quiet."

Selis turned, the blanket slipping low enough to bare her collarbone. "Is that what this is?" she teased. "Worship?"

His voice darkened, low and reverent. "You know it is."

He lifted her gently, guiding her to straddle his lap as the fire cast shadows along the curve of her back. The air was thick with cinnamon and smoke and longing that hadn't dulled since the first time he kissed her beneath a dying sky.

"I'm still afraid sometimes," she confessed, hands on his chest. "Like the world could take this from us."

He cupped her face. "Then I'll give you something it can't take."

He rose, lifting her effortlessly, carrying her out of the cottage with only the blanket wrapped around them both.

Outside, the highlands were aglow in silver. Stars spilled like ink. The moon hung low and full.

He set her down gently on the moss, then knelt before her, eyes never leaving hers.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, breath caught.

"I am giving you the moon," he said. "As promised."

He pulled a small crystal orb from his cloak — a relic he'd found in the ruins. Inside it, a shard of the shattered Veil pulsed, glowing like a captive star.

He held it up and whispered her name — Selis — and the shard responded.

It rose, slow and solemn, and hovered into the night sky.

The clouds parted. The light bathed them. Her body glowed as if the stars bowed to her skin.

"I didn't just survive for you," Valerian said, pulling her close again. "I belonged to you, even before I had a name. This world, this fire, this fate — it all ends in you."

And then, wrapped in starlight and silence, they made love slowly — not as omega and vampire, not as cursed and cursed-breaker, not as myth and prophecy — but simply as two souls who had found their way back to each other.