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The vampire king's captive

He ground down on his molars when his eyes fell to her lips, looking thoroughly pissed for reasons she couldn't possibly fathom. "What are you doing to me?" "What do you mean?" She whispered, her eyes trained on his firm lips. She willed him to kiss her. Willed him so much that if she'd had her powers, he would already be kissing her this very moment. A merciless sorceress… Maria Hatzi, daughter of the ruthless tyrant, Ariti, was a sorceress known far and wide across realms. She was feared just as she was hated—with a passion. Immortals trembled at the mention of her name and warlocks dared not to cross her path. An unforgiving vampire… Bran Karras’ entire household has been wiped out by Maria, and his only sister has now been captured by her. Bran was a lot of things, but a forgiver wasn’t one of them and he had absolutely no intentions of letting Maria go away with what she did to his family. Fuelled by rage, Bran captures the powerful sorceress, holding her prisoner in his dungeon and torturing her to the brink of insanity. Over the course of events, unwanted attraction blossoms between the two and it takes no time for Bran’s feelings of hatred towards her to turn into something more. Something he had no business feeling for the woman that murdered his entire family. Amidst chaos, truths are told and revelations are made. Bran realizes that things with Maria weren’t as they seemed and he discovers that she might not be the villain he had painted her to be.

Anya Ivy · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
128 Chs

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINTEEN

  MARIA

  She searched all the rooms in the house, even went down to the dungeons to check but she still couldn't find who she was looking for.

  Then she came face to face with the door to the room she wasn't sure she wanted to enter. Its huge black mahogany door taunted her, daring her to push it open. To step into the room that she had not entered since she was a child. A room that was no doubt still filled with the presence of her late father.

  But she shouldn't be scared, should she? She was the Queen of Sorceri, and with every second that passed, the thought started to solidify in her mind.

  With a wave of her hand, she sent the door flying back and she stormed in, her eyes sweeping the dark walls of the room where a single portrait of Ariti hung. Her powers had the frame crashing to the ground face-down.

  The man in the picture was dead. It was fitting that the picture should be destroyed too.