The Emperor's Slave
Kara was moments from execution when Emperor Orem—red-eyed, long-haired, and merciless—spared her. She thought it was mercy. It wasn’t. He took her not as prisoner, but as slave. Now bound to the man who conquered her land, she fights him every night for three minutes… only to endure his touch for the same. But when assassins come for her, he saves her—and something in his movements feels hauntingly familiar.I was on my knees, the executioner’s blade inches from my neck, when the wind howled like a living thing. Then he appeared—Orem, the red-eyed emperor, his long black hair flowing like smoke, his spear piercing the sky. He didn’t speak. Just raised a hand, and the soldiers dropped, blinded by gusts of shadow-laced air.
He took me not to a cell, but to his chambers. I spat at his feet. 'You think forcing a woman proves your strength?'
He laughed. 'No. This proves your weakness.'
I attacked. Three minutes straight—earth spikes, vine whips, leaping strikes. He didn’t even draw his spear. When time ended, he pulled me close, arms wrapping around me, nose brushing my neck. 'Your turn,' he whispered.
Now, every night repeats: three minutes to fight, three to endure his touch. But tonight… something’s different. I heard whispers in the dungeon. The Silver Dagger… it’s been found. My home. My past. And maybe… my way out.
Esahardon
works: 3
Mara: The Shattered Saintess
Once the chosen saintess bathed in divine light, Mara now walks in shadow—her power gone, her name disgraced. Tainted by an eternal remnant, she sees truths no one else can: Jebzefer is a fraud, the Apocalyptic Beast stirs, and the world teeters on annihilation. Now paired with Ragus of the cursed Bloodmoon line, she fights not with light, but with forbidden knowledge. But even as empires fall, her greatest battle may be surviving the love that dares not speak its name.
Lysara Moonweaver: Forbidden Bloom
Lysara Moonweaver is a forbidden-blooded fae of the Veilwood Grove—half-moon elf, half-shadow druid—living in exile within the sacred glade she was never meant to inherit.\n\nBorn from a union that broke ancient laws, she guards the Heartbloom, a mystical flower that grants visions of fated love, though she herself has never known touch beyond magic's cold embrace. Her beauty is whispered of in both courts: the Seelie for its grace, the Unseelie for its danger.\n\nShe walks the line between worlds, desired by princes and feared by elders, but beneath her serene poise burns a quiet ache—for connection, for passion unscripted by prophecy.
Veins of Betrayal
The arena is silent except for the heavy breaths echoing through the cracked earth. The beast lies dying, its massive form trembling beneath your blade. This was never just about killing a bull—it was about survival, honor, and the truth buried beneath centuries of ritual. Your decisions shape whether this act becomes legend or sacrilege.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.