Warnings
Okay, before you proceed. This is a dark romance. This is not a self-help book or a TED Talk. He is dark, morally bankrupt, and not going to follow the rules. He is an awful human being. There will be blood, mutilation of body parts, dub-con, pain, pleasure, and all that stuff.
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Her ruin:
“Tell me, Ruhi,” Acheron breathed against her dusky skin, voice thick with hunger and something darker. “Tell me. Beg me to stop.”
The first thrust was brutal. Sharp. Savage. A claiming meant to leave marks no holy water could ever wash away.
Ruhi bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted iron. She didn’t cry out. She didn’t plead. If her body wasn’t hers anymore, then her voice would be. Her soul would be.
She twisted the black silk of the saree still tangled around her waist, fists clenching so tight the fabric tore between her fingers.
Acheron’s gaze roamed her body like a starving man surveying his final feast. The dusky glow of her skin, brown, rich, and beautiful as the earth after a monsoon, drove him mad.
Her brown body looked carved from something older than time itself, something no blood could ever imitate.
Against the black saree, against the bruises already blooming under his hands, she looked royal. Untouchable. A queen meant for worship and ruin.
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His Ruin:
They say kings don’t kneel. That power bends the world to its will, not the other way around.
Cute, isn’t it?
I was born on a throne built from bones and sealed with blood. Raised by men who said mercy was a liability I listened. I learned. I thrived. I became the nightmare they needed me to be.
And then she looked at me. Just once. Didn’t speak. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall. No kiss. No invitation. Just those damn eyes, wide, defiant, and burning with a fire so pure it didn’t even realize it was made to destroy.
And like an idiot, I unraveled. She didn’t ruin me gently! Oh no. She blew me to hell in one breath.
I was the king of a continent. The monster under the bed. And I bent.
For her skin that begged to be marked. For her silence that screamed louder than prayers. For the way her breath caught when she wanted to run but didn’t.
There’s no redemption arc for me. No neat little bow to wrap around the mess she made of me.
Because when I saw her, I didn’t see a girl. I saw a goddess I wanted to devour.
And the best part? I’d do it again. I’d fall to my knees, slit my own throat, and hand her the knife with a smile.
Because kings don’t kneel? Darling I begged.
