The Warlord Alpha's Scarred Sacrificial Mate

Chapter 5

Word Count: 612 | Released on: Today at 20:52

phin

touch my skin, a heavy vibration s

ity of an Alpha King. The spiritual weight rolled down the spiral stai

gger slipped from his grip, clatte

e blade,

with absolute finality. Heavy, measur

is boot and dropped to both knees in the dirt. "

ry stepped in

er Direwolf crests, heavy leather bracers, and a dark wool mantle pinned by an obsidian clasp, he looked every inch the supreme warlord of t

him walked

exquisite mantle of white winter fox, she had painted her face into a portrait of delicate, fragile distress. She c

you are on your feet! When the news of your death reached me, the shock tore through my chest

a veil of unshed tears, her f

Corda sobbed softly, casting a fearful, resentful glance toward me. "I wept at the thought of

e was completely unreadable. "Is the fire

every breath," Corda wept, leani

wn to retrieve t

ld wall and stepped into t

in your chest

sp, dry, and sha

re cella

t hearing my sharp, cultured voice with her own ears

fury. "Kerr, look at her! She faked her idiocy for ten years to

-rot attacks the spiritual core within hours. It triggers severe pupil dilation, sub-zero

ctly at her ma

althy rose-pink. And your skin is warm enough to melt ice. You're as healthy

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.”