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The Witch's Devious Attraction

[Mature content, R18, no rape] "Who has done this to you?" Azel asked softly, his jaw tightly clenched as he stared into her teary, bright amber eyes, his fingers itching to caress her cheek. "Tell me," he whispered, "and I will sever his head and present it to you upon a platter of gold..." *** Her birth alone left her mother in a terribly weakened state... Adelia, the only daughter and child of the Veldon house, was… strange. Neither her birth mother nor her beloved father, nor even the witches posing as servants in the castle knew what she truly was. Adelia herself was clueless. She blamed herself for her mother's illness, and with each passing day, both grew worse—the affliction and her guilt. For her mother's sake and for hers as well, Adelia willingly enters into a ruthless deal, a path to salvation that was bound to lead to her demise, one that would deny her the experience of love. Still, she didn't care for the consequences and sacrifices, for the need to cure her mother was far greater… But fate, ever mocking her resolve, throws her onto the path of an insolent stranger, a man with the power to alter her desires... *** Obsidian armor. Strong. Ruthless. These three words defined a single knight, striking fear into the hearts of all who heard of him. Countless tales spoke of his exploits, yet his identity remained shrouded in mystery. Azel Latham, the embodiment of this figure, was known by none, for his face had never been seen in battle. With a single stroke, he could fell twenty warriors in an instant. Azel had many secrets. His presence was strange, his appearance even more peculiar. A mischievous and playful look on the outside but a shattered and enclosed heart within. …It would not remain frozen for long, however, for an amusing encounter with a captivating woman would leave him wanting more… **Cover art does not belong to me, credit to the artist!

Faechan · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
131 Chs

Trouble Magnet

Azel's nose had never deceived him—not once, not ever. And today, he was as certain as always that his sense of smell hadn't failed him, not in the least.

The maid who had poured tea for him had met his eyes and blushed. He didn't mind it; it was a common reaction whenever he was around women.

Yet, there was something else in her eyes, something similar to recognition… and it seemed strange.

Still, he didn't pay too much attention to it. Many people knew him, and many had dared to steal glances at him. He was, after all, famous.

No one could shake up a filthy Empire like he could… no one else but him could make an Empire like Dalniar be wary of a single man.

He brushed off the maid's recognition and her flustered face, but there was one thing he couldn't dismiss— and it was the scent that followed...

The smell of jealousy.