Red Storm - Chapter 205

Four years ago, after a night of drunkenness, she had a relationship with a stranger and fled in panic upon waking up. Four years later, she returns with a soft, cute little bun by her side.“Bad uncle, you're not allowed to bully my mommy!”The man looked at the little bun, who was not even tall enough to reach his waist, and gave a charming smile. “Shouldn't you ask your mommy why you look exactly like me?”

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

To save a doomed fantasy world, I killed the main characters, then destroyed the game world, and fell into another timeline as the academy's top seat and rival to the protagonist.Now, I'm trying to save the world and steer it towards a better ending…But I'm the final boss.

The journey of a generation’s male empress started because of four words.

“Send a dowry escort.”

During the 19th year of Yuanqing, Qi Yunruo boarded a carriage and entered through a corner door of the second prince’s estate. Then, across the watery corridor, he gazed at the prince from afar.

Notes:

For aristocratic women in imperial China to marry into a family part of the upper nobility, they must be of the legitimate line and must also have an escort/dowry maid that married into that family. That escort would be a “ying” (媵) and could be considered a concubine.

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