"You don't want to hear the third consequence?" he said sarcastically, smiling. I responded with silence and he replied, "Well it won't be too long till you suffer it with me," his eyes traveled from my eyes down to my crotch smirking, "Especially now that you're human...," he teleported in front of me holding my cheek, "You're no longer immune to my sexiness." He tilted his head and slightly leaned to my right ear whispering, "That uncontrollable sex-drive that you're going to feel, that aching feeling between your legs every time you look at me, the look in your eyes" and then traveling to my left ear, "that's begging me to relieve that pressure will be the perfect punishment because when you return back to your body I'll never make you forget it, which yes, will be worth it."
"Oh wouldn't that be perfect," I said back softly in his ear, "Because once you finally accept that she's your first love, I won't let you forget how you fucked me instead of her."
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A desperate mortal woman made a deal with a god, bargaining her soul and humanity for immortality. There's more... Every entity with a soul, will die under her touch, except for the Divine.
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The god of Darkness, Abysmal, sparks old flames with his first love's rebirth, the goddess of Light. It is bound by the Fates for this balance to be restored once and for all. He doesn't like getting told what to do, less being manipulated by the other Divines. Deals have been struck, and loyalties have been broken. Screw the Fates charming, lustful and naughty Abysmal makes his own rules.
.
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The suffocating scent of darkness,
A touch that can only tarnish,
Masquerading our curse by the fates,
An old flame's love awaits,
"Screw the binding prophecy,
We create our own odyssey,"
Torned between two flowers, dead or alive,
Which shall be the one to survive?
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*The Fanart of Corpse Husband on the book cover belongs to @kgcreate on insta*
"Long ago,
A man lived in a rose garden's glow,
He was in love with his roses below.
His eyes had never seen a woman's grace,
No sweet voice had touched his heart's space,
His roses were his only embrace.
Not a day went by he didn't care,
He watered, he talked, he'd always be there.
But as the years passed, the man grew frail,
Bound to his bed, his strength began to pale,
No one was left to tend to the veil.
The roses faded, withered, and died,
When he looked out, their colors had lied.
The man was ready to let them go,
To part with his wealth, all he'd know...
But life had a price he couldn't defy,
So he bled, and his roses revived to the sky."
Fedora, the daughter of an envoy meant to contribute to making the world a better place, cannot find harmony with the power inside her.
Though for years she thought of herself as useless, the death of her father's wife opens a door to a change in everything.
Was death an end or a beginning? Fedora had answers to find.