In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.

Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.
***

He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. "So, you laugh?" His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. "Hades, I—"

"But you only laugh at other men's jokes," he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. "Not your husband's." The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.

A nervous chuckle escaped me. "You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake."

In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. "You can’t laugh at my jokes..." he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, "but you’ll come with my fingers." 

I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.

"I don’t need your laughter," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. "I’ll have every other part of you instead." 

****
Dark fantasy romance 
Morally Grey ML
Angst
Suspense 
ENEMIES to lovers
Smut (like sprinkles on your ice cream)

"Morrison's health has deteriorated," Governor Gallinti informed, looking through some documents I had distributed. "His wife says that he has not been able to step out of his room. He has been talking about the 'voices,' so to say."


Everyone tried to remain casual as the words hung heavily in the air, but I could see their eyes darting clandestinely toward me—except Kael, who scoffed in amusement.


I cleared my throat, tossing that unneeded discussion out the window. "On to the topic of today's discussion."


"And they won't be back for a long while if all goes to plan."


"The donor remains with us, then," Ambassador Silas sighed.


The title of donor grated against me, my jaw clenching so I did not give Morrison a friend.


"So there is no need for the coronation," Governor Gallinti said. "She remains with us until the process of maturing the Fenrir's Vein is over."


Chapter 222 - Whispers