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Devil's Imposter Bride

"Just call my name, and I will stop, Lia," he whispered seductively, his lips pressed against my calf.  I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words. He was giving me a way out, a chance to escape this dangerous game we were playing. But I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to feel his touch and lose myself in the passion building between us.  "Call my name, Lia," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, his passionate eyes gazing back at mine. At that moment, I knew I lost. *** Life was mediocre for Amara until her Master brought a proposal for her or more like, it was an order: she was to marry the wicked Lord Damien. Refusal was out of the question for her, as she was merely a slave —a servant burdened by her parents' debts. Just when all hope seemed lost, and she resigned herself to her fate, a mysterious man shows up in front of her, kills the evil old lord, kidnaps her brother, and gives her certain tasks to complete. If she doesn't, then he will kill her brother. As Amara embarks on her journey to save her brother, she finds herself in the clutches of a handsome prince - a devil prince. Despite the danger that surrounds him, she is instantly drawn to his captivating charms. As she struggles to fulfill the tasks set by the mysterious man, her heart is pulled in two directions. On one hand, she feels an undeniable attraction to the devil prince; on the other, she is determined to do whatever it takes to save her brother's life. Will Amara be able to complete the tasks given to her by the mysterious man? Will she be able to save her brother's life? And what will happen when her assigned tasks clash with her feelings for the devil prince, forcing her to choose between her love for him and her family? *** The cover doesn't belong to me. All credit goes to the original owner.

Anna_k · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
208 Chs

Down the memory lane - XV

I watched with hate as Rhys who was now, finally free, rushed towards Slyvia. He cradled her limp body in his arms gently as if she was a porcelain doll. His face contorted with a whirlwind of emotions — sorrow, terror, and desperation as he called out to her, his voice trembling like a delicate leaf caught in the wind, "Slyvia, wake up. This is no time to sleep. We have to get married."

He shook her gently, attempting to wake her up, but Slyvia continued to lie there, unmoving and unresponsive to his frantic pleas.

Panic clawed at his expression, turning his face pale as a ghost, and his hands trembled like leaves in a storm as he tried once more to awaken her. "Slyvia," he cried, his voice thick with emotion and brimming with raw anguish. "I know you hate me. I know you don't want to see me, but please, I beg you, don't do this to me. Get up. Don't play this cruel trick on me."

Still, Slyvia lay unmoved.