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FED TO THE KING

gullahfwangmun
Seraphine Voss, 23, has always been the family's quiet liability - the daughter nobody fought for, the fiancée nobody chose. When the meteor fractured the sky and alien mutants crawled from the craters with terrifying intelligence and a chilling offer - one willing sacrifice per household, and the rest survive - her family didn't hesitate. They passed the decision around the dinner table like a polite formality. Her father spoke of necessity. Her mother couldn't meet her eyes. And Darian, the man who promised her forever, sat in silence and let them wrap her in white. They walked her to the dungeon entrance like a ceremony. Like it was mercy. What they didn't know - what nobody knew - is that the moment Seraphine crossed that threshold, something ancient cracked open inside her chest and filled every hollow space neglect had carved into her. An ability with no human name for it. She can feel the mutants. Their hungers. Their frustrations. The vast, complex architecture of what they want. And she can give them what no human ever thought to offer: the devastating gift of being understood. One by one, she learns the dungeon's hierarchy. One by one, she earns her place in it - not as prey, not as sacrifice, but as something this new world has no category for yet. A queen without a crown, building a court in the dark. But at the bottom of the deepest chamber, something waits that even the most powerful mutants refuse to approach. The Mutant King - ancient, ruthless, cruel with the precision of an art form. The one that descended with the meteor itself. The one that broke three military battalions in a single night. When Seraphine's ability pulses toward him for the first time, he pulses back. He already knows she's coming. He's been waiting. The family who called her disposable, the fiancé who blew out her candle without flinching - none of them could have predicted what they were actually doing. They didn't feed her to a monster. They delivered her to the apex of the new world. And she intends to make it kneel.
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Hurt Me Like You Mean It [BL]

[Updates resume March. Due to exams] [This book contains, explicit and mature scenes—no r*pe. Not advised for viewers under 18, protect thy purity] Lance Dixon is drowning in a debt that isn’t his. His parents’ financial mistakes have fallen entirely onto him, and his life has collapsed into a constant struggle to stay afloat. He has never denied what he is. Lance is a masochist, and most people he’s dated couldn’t handle that truth. Every relationship ended the same way, leaving him with needs no one was willing to meet. Everything shifts on a night he drinks too much and ends up venting to a stranger. In a mix of frustration and alcohol, Lance jokes that he’d sell himself to anyone willing to pay off his debt. The stranger, Ansel Lowell, doesn’t brush it off. He asks how much. And when Lance tells him, Ansel offers a deal: three months living under his terms, in exchange for clearing the debt completely. The deal is straightforward and seems almost like relief. But as the days pass, the dynamic between them deepens in ways neither expected. What began as a simple exchange grows into a connection that is far more consuming, and far more dangerous, than either of them intended. [Excerpt] Lance meant to pull away when Ansel stepped closer, but his body didn’t move. Ansel’s hand hovered near his jaw, just close enough to make Lance’s breath catch. “Do you understand what you agreed to?” Ansel asked quietly. Lance swallowed. “You’re paying off my debt. I stay with you for three months. That’s it.” A hint of a smile tugged at Ansel’s mouth, which made him more dangerous because of it. “No, Lance. That’s the surface of it. I want you to hear the truth.” Lance’s pulse stumbled. Ansel leaned in just enough that Lance could feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m going to take up space in your life. I’m going to have you when I want you. I’m going to learn every weakness you try to hide, and I will use them. I will claim you, piece by piece, until you can’t tell where your choices end and mine begin.” Lance exhaled shakily. “Do you worst Mr. Lowell, I can handle it.”
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