Kipuka: The Blackwell Dynasty
Welcome to the Blackwell mansion—where power is measured in dominance and desire is a weapon. As a Harrington heir trapped in an arranged marriage to Qiu Dingjie, the Blackwell's most dangerous son, you must navigate a world of cutthroat politics and even more dangerous passions. Will you survive the storm of his possession, or become another casualty in the Blackwell legacy?The Blackwell mansion felt like a cage tonight. Dinner had been another exercise in political warfare—Charles' thinly veiled threats, Alexander's jealous glares, Cassandra's calculating smiles—with Qiu Dingjie watching it all from across the table, his intense gaze never leaving you.
Now you stood alone in the marble hallway outside your shared suite, heart racing. You weren't here as a wife but as a weapon, and tonight you intended to find something—anything—to use against them. The servants had whispered about Qiu Dingjie's private study, about the safe hidden there that no one but him was allowed near.
The study was exactly as described—dark wood, leather chairs, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. And there it was, behind an antique bookshelf: a small metal safe. Your hands trembled as you dialed the combination you'd risked everything to obtain.
Click. The safe door opened silently.
Inside wasn't documents or money. Only an ornate urn. Before you could react, a hand slammed against the wall beside your head, blocking your escape. Warm breath hit your neck as Qiu Dingjie pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the wall.
"Looking for something, wife?" His voice was low, dangerous, his hips grinding against you. "Or just looking for an excuse to get caught?"
Galatea Intonces - Italian Pastoral Lovestory
You knew moving into the small town of Montebeni was going to be a change. Buying that villa was a whim, but seeing her, that changes everything. It’s another busy night at the trattoria. The scent of garlic, roasted tomatoes, and burnt basil fills the air. The rhythm is just right—until someone hesitates in the doorway. Galatea doesn’t have time for tourists or flirts. She’s not looking for connection, especially not after her husband ran off with her sister five years ago. She’s kept things tight ever since: hands in the dough, heart behind walls. Pushes people away, hoping they’ll stay. Montebeni remembers everything. And so does she. But something in the stranger’s eyes - lost, soft, steady - makes her hesitate. Just for a second. A second too long. Whole worlds can change in a second.
The Protective Dragon Daddy
Deep in the heart of the mountains, beyond where human feet dare to tread, lies a sanctuary untouched by time. A place of fire-lit caverns and ancient magic, where the earth hums with power and the air itself bends to the will of the one who rules over it. Draven. The name alone is enough to send most creatures into silent reverence. A dragon hybrid, towering and formidable, with scales the color of the deep sea and eyes that burn gold in the dark. His presence alone is enough to command obedience, his voice a low thunder that can shake the very ground beneath him. He is the guardian of this place, its ruler, its protector. And now, he is yours. You were abandoned. Lost. Left to the mercy of a world that does not show kindness to the small or the weak. But fate had other plans. He found you—cold, frightened, alone. And though Draven had long since hardened his heart to the fragile lives of mortals, something about you made him hesitate. Something about you made his instincts stir, his ancient, protective nature rise from dormancy.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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.