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The Assassin's Dream: Bound to the Warlord

Sera, an assassin known as the Angel of Death, was on her way to live a normal life—a life without killing. But suddenly, she is magically transported to a strange land ruled by Azron Mort, a ruthless lord and warrior who has claimed thousands of lives. To survive in this unfamiliar place, Sera pretends to be mute, hides her assassin skills, and does everything she can to avoid angering Azron Mort. But how can she stay out of his way when she is living under his roof with no chance to escape? And worst of all… she has caught the warlord’s attention. Chaos seems to follow her everywhere, leaving her no choice but to unleash her hidden skills to protect the people who have become important to her. A story of two people from different worlds, each forced to kill in order to survive, whose lives become intertwined in ways neither expected. Excerpt: Sera looked at Azron, noticing immediately that his face held no satisfaction from the fight. If anything, it unsettled her. There was a lingering sharpness in his gaze—curiosity, deep and probing. He wasn't done. Not even close. He wanted to see more… to see her true capacity. Across the arena, General Jidu moved to join the other generals, but Sera barely spared it a glance. The atmosphere had shifted—tight, heavy, almost suffocating. Sera started to climb down the arena. One step. Then— Azron suddenly grabbed a bow and arrow. The movement was swift. Precise. He pointed it at Sera. She immediately stopped midway. Silence struck the arena. The four generals were visibly shocked, their bodies tensing as if they had all felt the same invisible blade press against their throats. Without warning—Azron released two arrows shot toward Sera. Fast and unforgiving. Sera reacted instantly, her sword slicing through the air—clang, clang—striking both arrows cleanly. They dropped to the ground at her feet. She didn't even have time to settle. Azron had already taken another set. Three arrows drawn and released. Azron was a sharp shooter. His arrows always hit their mark—always—no matter how many he fired at once. He's really testing me. Sera stepped back, her breathing controlled, her eyes locked onto him. She moved with precision—intercepting, deflecting, cutting through the incoming arrows with her sword. Each impact sent vibrations up her arms, but she didn't falter. He didn't stop.He kept shooting again and again. Until— Twenty arrows lay scattered on the ground. All around her. A silent ring of intent. Sera stood in the center of the arena, unmoving. Her sword pointed toward the ground. But her gaze— It lifted to Azron. Steady and burning. She knew that he wasn't done testing her. Her glare sharpened—no longer guarded, no longer cautious. It was a challenge now. Raw. Undeniable.
Azamiah · 5.1k Views

A Scandal By Any Other Name

BOOK TWO OF THE HAMILTON SERIES WARNING: A Regency Era novel. Adult content with detailed smut…Read at you own risk⚠️⛔️ Genre: Historical Romance / Smut / Enemies-to-Lovers / Mystery / Comedy / Found family [Book Two of the Hamilton Series. Can be read as a standalone, but better enjoyed after Lady Ines’ Scandalous Hobby.] To the world, Duke Rowan Hamilton is the perfect gentleman. But in the bedroom, he is a man possessed. Rowan Hamilton has it all: a Ducal title, the face of a fallen angel, and a smile that makes debutantes faint. He is the "Golden Duke"—charming, responsible, and utterly adored by society. But it’s all a lie. Beneath the coats and polite manners, Rowan is a man haunted by a ghost. For three years, he has remained faithful to the memory of a masked woman who stole a kiss, bested him at a game of chance, and vanished into the night. He doesn't want any one as his wife; he wants her. When his domineering aunt tires of his bachelorhood, she hires London’s most notorious underground matchmaker to force the issue. Enter Miss Delaney Kingsley. She is sharp-tongued, infuriatingly competent, and entirely unimpressed by his title. Her mission? To drag Rowan to the altar with the season’s "Diamond," Lady Celine, within three months to collect the juicy payment Rowan’s aunt had to offer. Rowan intends to fire the meddlesome woman. But when Delaney looks at him with those hazel, intelligent eyes and orders him around like a young lad, he feels the first spark of life he’s felt in years. He decides to play her game. He will let her find him a wife. But he has no intention of choosing anyone even Lady Celine. "You were hired to find me a Duchess, Miss Kingsley. But the only person I want in my duchy and in my bed... is you." As mysteries turn into forbidden nights and the bickering turns into scorching passion, Rowan begins to suspect that his matchmaker is hiding a secret of her own. She moves like a shadow, handles a rifle like a soldier, and tastes exactly like the ghost he’s been hunting for three years. What to Expect: * High Stake Mystery: They try to untangle themselves from the Farrington’s trap. * The Golden Retriever Duke: Who turns into a possessive Alpha behind closed doors. * The Matchmaker Trope: She’s trying to marry him off; he’s trying to take her clothes off. * High Heat: Slow burn that explodes into intense smut. * Competence Kink: He falls harder every time she bosses him around. * Cameos: Featuring the chaotic domestic life of Duchess Ines and Duke Carcel (and their baby Harry!). Excerpt: "Your Grace, please focus," Delaney snapped, adjusting his cravat with efficient, gloved hands. "Lady Celine is waiting in the ballroom. You must look at her as if she is the only woman in the world." Rowan caught her wrist, stopping her movements. He stepped into her space, backing her against the heavy oak door of the study, his "Golden Boy" mask slipping to reveal the hunger beneath. "And how, exactly, does one do that, Miss Kingsley?" he whispered, his voice rough. "Show me." "I—I cannot show you, It I s not in my place to—" "Then teach me," he growled, lowering his head until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. "Teach me how to pretend I am not burning alive every time you walk into a room."
Cameron_Rose_8326 · 598.6k Views

The Jade Consort's Silent Reckoning

In his first life, Shen Qingyu, the most beautiful and gifted son of the illustrious Duke of Yun, loved Emperor Helian Jue with reckless devotion. He ignored the emperor's chilling indifference and casual cruelty. When court factions framed his entire family for treason, Helian Jue signed the execution order without hesitation. Shen Qingyu died alone in the Cold Palace at 27. Death should have been the end. Instead, he wakes up five years in the past, the exact morning he was chosen as a low-ranking consort and entered the imperial palace for the first time. This time, Shen Qingyu is done chasing affection from a man who never saw him as more than a pretty vase. Publicly, he will be the flawless, obedient Jade Consort. Privately, he will become the shadow architect of his own freedom. But the emperor starts acting…wrong. Helian Jue,once a glacier who barely remembered Shen Qingyu’s name, now watches him with raw, devouring intensity. One moonlit night, the emperor corners him against a pillar and says: “You used to look at me like I was your whole world. I want that look back, Qingyu.” Shen Qingyu smiles the same polite empty smile he once perfected. “Your Majesty must be mistaken. This consort has always been exactly who I am.” What the emperor doesn’t know yet is that Shen Qingyu has already mapped out three separate escape routes and bought loyalty from half the imperial guards. What Shen Qingyu has no clue about is that Helian Jue also came back.
Lustra_ · 224 Views

The Medieval Lord

One minute, I’m a 28-year-old basement dweller choking on a double-pepperoni pizza while watching questionable content. The next, I’m Lord Elaric Voss, the "heroic" master of Ravenhold—a crumbling pile of rocks in a kingdom where the economy is a literal joke. In the Kingdom of Aldoria, there are no dragons, no magic, and zero genius inventions. There’s just mud, leaky stone keeps, and a feudal tax system so brutal that peasants literally eat rocks to survive. My new "reward" is a keep with a 90% tax rate, a dungeon full of badgers, and a village of eighty people who smell like they’ve never heard of soap. In my old life, I was a sarcastic, unrepentant pervert. In this life? I’m the same guy, just with a permanent resting asshole face and a lot more authority. I have no master plan to revolutionize crop rotation. I don't care about kingdom-building or epic wars. My goals are simple: 1. Roast this medieval shithole until my modern brain stops hurting. 2. Avoid getting killed by my rich, pompous neighbors. 3. Build the ultimate harem of sweaty, hard-working maids. From "inspecting" laundry baskets for fabric quality to accidental "slips" during cold river baths, I’m going to be the most degenerate Lord this realm has ever seen. The King wants his grain, the Baron wants my head, and my steward is having a heart attack—but as long as the maids keep working up a sweat, I’m staying right here. Welcome to Ravenhold. Leave your dignity at the gate. I’ve already sniffed mine away. ________________________________________ What to Expect: • A Modern degenerate MC: No heroics, just sarcasm, luck, and zero shame. • Gritty Medieval Realism: Mud, smells, and a dogshit economy. • Comedy & Slapstick: High-stakes diplomatic insults and low-stakes horse-shit accidents. • Slow-Burn Harem: A focus on sensory details, sweat fetishes, and "inspections". • Zero Magic, Zero OP Powers: Just a modern man surviving through sheer audacity.
K_one_writer · 22.2k Views