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)

My hand was twitching as I paced, the replacement phone that Hades made available for me weighing a ton.


My mind was a jumble of thoughts, fears, possibilities, and probable aftermath. The night before, when I had decided to look for evidence, I did not realize just how far I was from any resources that could help manage the narrative and get the truth out before I found a bullet in my skull.


My mind was replaying every interaction since I was brought here, looking for a probable source of help and information that could help put the story together—without me seeming like I was trying to transfer the blame to the sister of one of the victims.


I had almost gnawed off my entire bottom lip from contemplating. Who could help me? Who would have been privy enough to the events of that day that could help me out with just enough incentive or doubt in order to tip the scales in my favor?


Chapter 242 - The Tempest Of The Mind