APKDock Logo
Chapters
share
Lunar Whispers-Born for the Lycan King Novel Cover

Lunar Whispers-Born for the Lycan King

She fled a monster... only to find another. When Alpha Jacob destroys everything Amara Kane loves, she runs to the one place more feared than the enemy's claws-the northern stronghold of the immortal Lycan King, Damien. Ruthless, untouchable, and whispered to have killed his own mates, he is a legend meant to inspire terror, not hope. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Because the moment their eyes meet, Amara realizes the impossible: Damien is her Mate. Cold and merciless, he wants nothing to do with her. Yet the bond between them burns too fiercely to deny. Every clash turns to fire, every silence to longing, every step closer to him a step deeper into shadows Amara cannot explain. The pack house whispers with unseen voices, secrets stalk her in the night, and the closer she gets to Damien, the more danger coils around her. What haunts him may yet destroy her. And what binds them together may be the very thing that tears them apart. A dark romance of forbidden bonds, haunted halls, and a love powerful enough to defy fate itself-perfect for fans of heart-pounding twists and slow-burn obsession.
Chapters
share

Chapter 9

Chapter no 9- Mummified

'You are but a zenith of an artist's dream

He must have pondered you for ages, a wonder to beam'

Damien

I was so absorbed by her sitting there, Alive. I forgot she was bit, and she was bleeding.

We both stared at each other, my mind blank. Her ember red hair soaked in water, sticking to her body. They were long, wavy and thick. It covered her body like flames spreading their way over her body.

Her green eyes staring into me. I felt if it were possible that I possessed a soul, She could talk to it through her eyes.

I felt for her more than I ever felt for any others. Her pull so strong, she could pull my body towards her and I wouldn't be surprised.

My hands yearned to run into her hair, hold her, touch her.

I wanted to hold her in my arms and not let anything happen to her. I could hold her forever, not letting her leave even if she begged to go.

So no harm could touch her ever.

But it was not possible.

She needed to leave.

She should have left.

Amara

My body was hurt.

Pain burned my body, but it fell into neglect as I held his gaze. The ghost of a smile that held my lips was gone. I was just breathless now.

We both stared at each other, my mind blank.

His black eyes held onto mine like a prisoner. It was a possession I didn't want to get out of.

An Abyss, I wanted to go deeper and deeper into it and never leave.

My hands longed to touch him. Hold him. Ask him about the Isolation in his eyes, the Melancholy in his soul.

Heal him. Bring him to peace, all the while being broken myself. It was a beautiful thought.

For him to be Serene.

But It was not possible.

He wanted me to leave.

I should have left.

.

.

.

Erica was breathing on my head. Her face red, eyes in tears, anger burning in her.

"What were you thinking!" She yelled.

I wasn't. I wasn't thinking at all. And this earned me unbearable pain. My arm was searing, burning with a sensation that coursed through my veins like molten lava.

It took a while for the effect of adrenaline and Damein to leave. And now I was in misery.

My arm was being checked by a nurse. The fields was covered with them, and doctors. Checking up on the injured. Bringing them to hospitals, getting them better.

"There are two deep bites, but it have not shattered bone. You need to have several stitches. You also have fever," The nurse told me, "And you need to be on a course of antibiotics for infection. Can you stand up?"

Weakly, I nod my head. Erica held my other hand and pulled me on my feet.

The sudden movement made my arm jerk and increase the pain ten folds. I cry out.

"Please get her to the ambulance," The nurse asked Erica to which she nodded her head quickly.

"No," I pulled my arm away from Erica.

"I will not go in. I have done enough damage,"

Erica looked like she wanted to slap me. She would have if I wasn't injured.

"Amara. I have had enough of your stubbornness for today. Move your bloody ass to the vehicle," She demanded.

And I was just that. Stubborn. Too prideful to go into his city after he clearly said I would not come back under any circumstances. I had left. I had, knowing I would not see my sister even at her death. My demise was least of my concerns.

"Erica, I will not go, and you know that,"

"And why is that?" Calm and deep. Like there has not just been a war going on, and the groans of the hurt are a faint distant cry. Goosebumps cover my skin.

My head turn to face Damien.

"Why what?" I ask. My heart thumping in my chest.

"Go to the hospital, Amara . You are injured," He hissed. My head almost spins in conflicting emotions. Anger. Panic. Pain. Disbelief. Surprise. Fondness. Affection.

"You ordered me to never come back to the city," I hissed back.

He took a step towards me, and another. He took my arm from Erica, while I tried to protest and pull away.

"What are you doing?"

"I ordered you to leave. I order you to come back,"

"I am not in your city, I am not your slave anymore. I don't follow your orders here," My voice was weak bit I still stood my ground.

I was just being petty at this point and I knew that well enough. I wanted him to persuade me. I wanted him to beg me to come back. I wanted him to feel something. Anything.

Maybe my brain was actually fried, or maybe I was too blinded by pain to think straight.

But there was no begging. There was no persuading. He wrapped his arm under my hips, lifted me up just like that, and started walking.

...?

"Damein?" I gasped.

He carried me effortlessly in one arm. I was too aghast to form words or move my muscles.

My body was beautifully warm, and my mind was stupidly blank and hyper-focused on him.

His arm around me. His chest against mine. My heart was beating against his. Same rhythm. Fast and loud. My face in his neck. My hand on his shoulder. His breath on my shoulder.

We passed the gates.

He walked near an ambulance and unloaded me there gently.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my red ear. He knew what effect he had on me. I could see it on his face. His amused eyes.

"Now you are in my city," He whispered.

"Better start listening to orders now. Inside!" It was order delivered in a soft tone. Soft enough for me to oblige. Also, the pain was killing me.

Two nurses were standing by my side already. They helped me up onto the stretcher and I was dragged onto the ambulance.

So much for persuading.

I was covered in cotton and gauze. My hand had a drip attached. Echo beeping by my head, and my throat was drying up.

They said an infection had started to spread from my arm, and I needed to be under observation.

If it spread further, I had to say good bye to my arm.

My body was burning up in fever.

But atleast Jacob was dead.

It was almost night, and I was feeling a little better. Alex had visited several times, asking if I needed anything. He was a good man. I liked him already.

The infection was not spreading because meds that had my mouth tasting like soap, and the drip that had swollen my arm. I was removed of my rags, cleaned by a washcloth and was given a hospital gown. It was pink. I liked pink.

Erica was asleep on the chair.

The door swing open and in came black hair attached to a very tall body.

Damien.

Our eyes met.

He walked to my bed avoiding making any noise to wake Erica up. He was freshly dressed. His torn white shirt was replaced with a new one. One look and the images of his naked torso rush into my brain.

I wonder if his shirt tear when he turned.

"I brought this," He said, bringing forward a small card board box. I opened it, and there were red berries.

"...?" I look up at him, confused.

"They promote healing, works better than any medicine," I was feeling all the emotions a school girl would feel when her crush asks her for prom.

"Do they taste good?" I ask.

Now he was confused, "You never had them before?" He asks.

"Jacob loved these, so we were not allowed to eat it," I told him.

I take one. It was red, like the name. I take it in my mouth and bite down. A sweet and sour taste swirls my mouth.

My eyes widen a little as I look up at him.

I think I found my new favorite fruit.

"I can see you liked it," A ghost if smile covers his lips.

I take another one in my mouth.

"You can...sit you know, consider this your own city,"

His eyes narrow at me before he looks around for a chair. The two chairs in the room were booked by Erica, one for upper body, other for lower.

His eyes return and he settles on the bed beside me. My thighs touch his back, and I was not complaining.

"How are you feeling," He asks. Is he really being this nice? or the infection actually is spreading making me hallucinate.

"I am good," I nod my head, "My arm hurts, My head hurts, My body is burning up in fever, and I feel like someone replaced my throat with a bark. Its all la la land,"

I smile.

"You are in a good mood," He studies me.

I release a breath. I am always in a good mood unless I am not provoked, which is the only thing he had done everytime we meet.

"I killed Jacob," I look at Erica. "I never thought killing someone would make me feel this good, But it does," I tell him.

He nods his head.

"Also You are not yelling at me to...get the hell out of your city so..., I have a place to stay for a while," I had yet again spoke without thinking. And I had ruined his mood.

His features that were just so relaxed had shifted, his back tensed, his shoulders rigid.

Way to go Amara.

"You can stay,"

You may also like

Bound By Contract, Tied By Faith  Novel Cover
8.6
Ivy Hart didn't just lose love, she was destroyed by it. Publicly betrayed by the man she thought she'd marry, her heartbreak becomes a spectacle she can't escape. Humiliated, angry, and done believing in forever, Ivy swears she'll never be that vulnerable again. Then Damian Blackwood steps in. Ruthless. Possessive. A man who doesn't ask, he takes. His offer is simple, his tone is not: Marry me. A contract. Strict rules. No love. No questions. But Ivy quickly learns one thing. Damian doesn't share. Not his power. Not his control. And definitely not what he considers his. What was supposed to be a cold, calculated arrangement turns suffocatingly intense. The way he watches her. The way he touches her. The way his voice drops when he says, "You're mine, Ivy." It's not part of the contract. And neither is the jealousy that burns in his eyes when her past comes crawling back, begging for a second chance. Because Damian doesn't believe in love... But he believes in possession. And once he's claimed something, he never lets it go. As secrets unravel and the truth behind their marriage begins to surface, Ivy realizes she didn't just sign a contract. She signed herself over to a man who would destroy anyone who tries to take her away... even if that means destroying her too. When the contract ends, one question remains: Will Ivy walk away with her heart intact... or will Damian make sure she never leaves at all?
CURSED FOR LOVE  Novel Cover
8.9
"We can't be together," he whispered, voice breaking. "You are my destruction." Tears burned her eyes as she shook her head, stepping closer even though it felt like standing at the edge of a blade. "And you... are my ruin too." The words tasted like a goodbye neither of them could accept. They were bound by something that had been waiting before either of them had names - stitched into the marrow of their bloodline, fed on every grief their ancestors had swallowed in silence. A curse that needed only one thing to wake. Them, together. They were never meant to love safely. And if they ever surrendered to it - One would die. The other would be hollowed out by loving them. The curse had learned patience from centuries of waiting. And already, without permission, without mercy, the distance between them was shrinking.
HOSTILE OATH Novel Cover
8.1
Vivian bears the weight of an ancestral curse, a yoke forged in darkness, which was meant to be broken. A future ravaged by war and chaos loomed, threatening her destiny but Vivian's path was not yet set to answer to her inheritance. Ignorant of her true identity, she couldn't control the powers she possessed, losing loved ones in the process and consumed by self-guilt. Yet, from the ashes of despair, she felt the rage and determination to harness the powers consuming her in her shadow and forge a new path; maybe she could get back all she had lost in all possible ways she could. Prophecy were made, and a formidable force stirred, rising to challenge her claim. When a greater threat arose, Vivian faced a brutal reality: prepare for battle or succumb to the shadows but there was a price to pay. She was left with two options; reclaim her birthright or shatter the chains of destiny!
My Faked Death, His Endless Torment Novel Cover
8.3
I was dying from a mysterious illness, but my family, including my fiancé King, dismissed me as a drama queen. At my adopted sister Isabel' s promotion party, my body finally gave out and I collapsed, coughing up blood. Instead of helping, King accused me of ruining Isabel's big night. He tore up my terminal diagnosis report right in front of me, sneering that I'd do anything for attention. Completely broken, I annulled our engagement and fled to a rundown motel to die alone. But Isabel found me. With a triumphant smile, she confessed everything-she had been slowly poisoning me for years, a plot to steal my health, my family's love, and King himself. She had no idea her entire monstrous confession was being recorded by a device left in the room. I sent that audio file to everyone and, with the help of a kind stranger, faked my own death. Years later, I had a new life, a new name, and a quiet peace I never thought possible. Then one day, a broken, haunted man walked into my seaside café, clutching a faded photo of me. It was King.
No More Submission: The Heiress Strikes Back Novel Cover
9.0
I spent five years acting as the perfect, invisible caretaker for my wealthy family, meticulously managing their health and social standing while they treated me like a ghost. Then, my nightmare became reality when my brother Alon shoved me out of bed, forcing me to apologize to our adopted sister, Fallon, for a jealousy I never felt. My parents and brother stood over me, their eyes filled with unfiltered disgust, demanding I play the servant to a girl who was actively plotting my social destruction. They froze my accounts, stripped me of my dignity, and mocked my existence, fully expecting me to crawl back to them in tears like I did in my other, broken life. I stared at their entitled faces, feeling a cold, sharp clarity wash over me; they were so obsessed with status that they didn't realize they had just handed the keys to their own ruin to a complete amateur. Why was I still playing the martyr for people who would watch me burn without blinking? I stood up, walked away from their chaos, and cut the final tie, leaving them to face the ruthless social elite with a liability they couldn't control.
Stalked To Be Desired and Damned  Novel Cover
7.9
Content Warning : This story is not safe. It's addictive, explicit, and threaded with triggers that bite. It drags you through obsession, trauma, and the kind of desire that hurts as much as it heals. If you can't handle morally grey men, broken women, or the thin line between love and ruin, stop here. If you can... keep reading. I thought monsters only lived in the dark, until I was framed for a murder I didn't commit and dragged into a world that felt darker than any nightmare. Where he was. Where he's always been. Watching me. He doesn't love. He claims what's his and destroys anyone who touches it. I tried to run from the shadow that haunts me, but somehow, every time, I end up running straight back to him. He's danger wrapped in devotion. My curse. My obsession. My undoing. I should fear him. And I do. But fear doesn't stop the pulse between my thighs. Or the way my heart betrays me when he whispers my name like a threat and a prayer. They call it madness. I call it survival. Because in his darkness, I stopped being hunted. I became the desire. He's the shadow I was meant to run from, but the one who left his hunger burning deep inside me.