The Warlord Alpha's Scarred Sacrificial Mate

Chapter 4

Word Count: 625 | Released on: Today at 20:52

phin

pendant hitting the ston

roaring crest of a White Wolf. It was the sole relic left by my moth

r it, but Ke

ne, the cold composure on his face cracked. A flash of raw, agonizing vulnera

b running over the wolf cres

ce was barely a whisper, yet it c

swered evenly. "It was l

oped me. "The Finch pack has never possessed craftsmanship like this. Ten years ago, in the

ween our faces, his e

aculously woke today-carry the very same relic into my tomb." His jaw tightene

ot see the truth, keep the stone for now. But the day you finally uncover what really hap

eatures. He didn't erupt in fury; instead,

, the cellar will keep you out of Corda's

into the cold foundations of the fortress, lock

footsteps faded, I sat against the d

e, armed, and had revived the Alpha King. Knowing Corda's ruthless ambition, she wouldn't sit idle. She

tarmetal ring o

ssolved in a s

beside the White Jade Spring, drinking deeply from the sacred water. The crystalline liquid flushed

band, rubbed a smear of damp earth over my collar to maintain the facade o

ed before the iron

he torchlight carrying a polished silver basin, flanked by t

fore the High Council convenes," Roric sneered, stepping forward to bar

ger, aiming strai

Chapter End

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The Warlord Alpha's Scarred Sacrificial Mate

Lorraine Fantasy

“I was a top ER doctor from the 21st century, but I woke up on a cold stone slab. I had been reincarnated as an ugly, scarred Omega, sent by my adopted family to be buried alive as a human sacrifice for the dying Warlord Alpha. To avoid being buried with a corpse, I used my medical knowledge to expose that the Alpha was actually faking his coma. But instead of sparing me, he nearly choked me to death and threw me into the kitchens to rot. His "true love" even tried to drain my blood under the guise of a fake cure. When I exposed her lies and proved I was the only one who could truly save him, he agreed to let me treat him. But as a reward, he dragged a silver blade across my wrist and ordered twenty brutal lashes. "A lesson," he sneered, watching me bleed. "To remind you who is master." I endured the agonizing whipping without a single cry, my back torn to shreds. Why did my desperate attempts to save my own life only earn me endless torture from this monster? Bleeding and near death, I looked at his terrified executioner and spun my greatest lie yet. "Your Warlord isn't poisoned. He's infested by a parasite eating his soul." As the executioner dropped to his knees in terror, I closed my eyes and entered my hidden medical space to heal my wounds. From this moment on, the rules of this deadly game were mine to make.”