Aurelia, a Noble Roman woman, had heard of the savage British tribes, their mystic Celtic ways, and the battles the Roman army was fighting against them on their shores. The battles her soon-to-be Husband, Quintus Acquilla, was fighting in the name of the Eagle. But she could not have predicted that, when she crossed the ocean to be with him and fulfil the marriage contract between their families, she would be captured by a Barbarian War Lord and made to be his War Prize...

"No-please-don't do this!" Seraphina sobbed, her voice cracking as she clung to her eldest brother's wrist. "I-I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say, just don't-" A sharp crack echoed through the room as his palm struck her cheek, sending her crashing to the marble floor. Pain exploded across her skin, but it was nothing compared to the terror clawing at her chest. From above, his voice was cold. Unmoved. "You will marry him." She shook her head wildly, crawling backward until her spine hit the wall. "He's a monster," she whispered, her breath shuddering. "He's not human. Please, don't make me do this. I'll die." Her second brother crouched in front of her, grabbing her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. His lips curled, eyes void of warmth. "Then die." Her breath hitched. "But you will die as his wife." The door behind them creaked open. Heavy footsteps. Her father stepped inside, his expression unreadable. "Lock her in this room," he ordered. "She will not step out until her wedding day." Sera thrashed as hands seized her, dragging her toward the massive iron doors. "No! Please-Father, please!" But he didn't even look at her. The last thing she saw before the door slammed shut was her brothers standing side by side, indifferent as she was thrown into a fate worse than death. Then darkness. And the only thing left was the suffocating truth. She was a sacrifice. A bride to the Sinister, a devil himself. #A STANDALONE BOOK

"No, please ... not again" she prayed. That tune. Soft. Familiar. Haunting. She turned slowly... her breath caught in her throat. There he was. Standing in the shadows, just beyond the emergency exit. "I'll follow you wherever you go" "No," she whispered. "No, no, no, shhh, Meera, calm down. It's just a hallucination. Just a hallucination. Just-" She broke into a run, blind and desperate, nearly tripping over her own feet. And crashed straight into something - or rather someone. IZRAEL'S FIAMA

She stood, a smirk curling her lips, her gaze sharp enough to cut through steel. "You may command the world, Lucifer, but I know how to set that very world on fire." Lucifer's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint sparking in their depths. He stepped closer, his grip firm as he pulled her into the shadow of his power. "Then burn me, Fiore," he whispered, his voice like smoke and sin. "I'll worship the ashes."

"From today onwards, Ares will be responsible for your security." Haven froze. Lucifer's voice was final, unwavering. She knew that tone. Knew there was no room for negotiation. Her grip tightened around the glass in her hand. "I don't need a bodyguard." Lucifer's stare was ice. "You don't get a choice in this matter Vida." She scoffed. "You expect me to let him follow me around like a damn shadow?" Ares stood by the doorway, silent, dark, and completely uninterested. The dim lighting cast sharp edges across his face-expression unreadable, stance lethal. "You think I want this?" he muttered, voice low, detached. "So stay out of trouble, and I won't have to babysit you." Haven turned to him, fury igniting like gasoline meeting fire. "Babysit? Cute. I didn't know Lucifer's lapdog could talk." Ares barely spared her a glance. "Talk back to me again, and I'll show you what else I can do." Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temples. "Enough. Haven, Ares will be your bodyguard until we find someone more... tolerable." Ares scoffed. "Don't bother. No one would last a week with her." Haven's lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. "Then let's make sure you don't last a week either, shall we?" For the first time, Ares actually looked at her. Long. Cold. Assessing. And then, he smirked too. "Try me, fiera." Her pulse jumped at the name. Fiera. Little fire. --- Upcoming - JUNE 2025