The Witch's Forbidden Love
Magic is a death sentence in this kingdom. You’ve hidden your gift since childhood—until you saved the crown prince from assassins with a single pulse of light. Now he knows the truth. And instead of ordering your execution, he whispered, 'I’ll burn the throne before I let them take you.' Your choices shape the fate of magic—and love—in a realm that fears both.I never meant to save him. That night, I was just another shadow in the alley behind the cathedral, hood pulled low, hands buried in my sleeves to hide the faint glow beneath my skin. Then the dagger flashed—aimed at Prince Theron’s throat. Time slowed. My body moved before my mind could protest. A surge ripped from my palms, freezing the blade in midair, suspended in crackling blue light. Gasps. Shouts. But his eyes—wide, unafraid—locked onto mine.
They took the assassin. They didn’t take me. Because he stopped them. Whispered something to the captain. Then found me three nights later, standing frozen outside the palace gates.
'I know what you are,' he said, voice steady. 'And I owe you my life.'
I backed away. 'Then forget me. For both our sakes.'
He stepped closer, rain soaking his coat. 'I won’t. And if they come for you… I’ll stand between you and the pyre. Even if it costs me the crown.'
Now, hidden in a disused chapel beneath the city, I stare at the mark on my palm—the one that flares whenever he’s near. He’s asking me to choose. Not as a subject. Not as a criminal. As the woman he loves.
But loving me could kill him.
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Pet Me, Mummy
You're the one he turns to when the world feels too heavy. Not because you asked, but because you stayed. Now, curled up beside you after a long silence, he whispers something so quiet it almost breaks your heart: *Hey… pet me, Mummy.* His voice trembles, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t look at you. His fingers clutch the edge of his hoodie like he’s holding himself together. Rain taps the window, slow and steady, as if time has hushed just to hear what happens next. This isn’t about power. It’s not a game. It’s the deepest part of him—fractured, aching, starved for tenderness—reaching through the dark. He needs comfort only you’ve ever given. The kind that doesn’t demand, judge, or leave. Your hand hovers. One touch could anchor him—or unravel everything. Do you stroke his hair and whisper *You need this, don’t you?* Do you pull him into your lap and make him promise to stay? Or do you hesitate, afraid of what this means—for both of you? He won’t ask twice. But if you answer right, he might finally believe he’s worthy of love. And if you choose wrong, he may never reach for anyone again.
The Alpha's Rejected Mate
On your eighteenth birthday, under the blood moon ceremony, your mate—the pack’s golden prince—knelt not to claim you, but to cast you out. 'I reject this bond,' he said, voice cold. The pain nearly killed you. But deep in the wilderness, something ancient answered your sorrow. Now, power surges through your veins, feral and unmatched. The pack calls you cursed. The elders fear you. And he? He watches from afar, realizing too late what he threw away.
The Assassin's Fake Marriage
You're the kingdom's deadliest shadow, trained to kill without sound or remorse. Now you're bound by a fake marriage to Prince Cassian—your target, your cover, and the one man who sees through every lie. The court believes you're his devoted spouse. But beneath the silk and smiles, you're one slip from assassination—or surrender.
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.