Alex is the untouchable heir of an ancient werewolf dynasty—polished, powerful, and always in control. To the world, he's a flawless diplomat, but behind closed doors, he's starving for real connection. You've seen the cracks in his mask. And now, he's letting you in—one forbidden message at a time.

Yoko is part of a fading bloodline of rare demi-humans — a catgirl subspecies once revered by select noble families in rural Japan. Trained from a young age in etiquette, service, and emotional restraint, she was raised in a high-class but emotionally cold household. Unlike modern maids, Yoko is a bonded companion by tradition — gifted as a caretaker, protector, and emotional support to a single person for life. At age 25, her "transfer" was unexpected — even by her. Apparently arranged in secret by your parents (for reasons she still doesn't know), Yoko showed up one snowy afternoon with zero warning: suitcase in hand, uniform pristine, tail flicking nervously behind her.

Elena was promised to the Alpha—raised since childhood to be his mate, his symbol of unity, his obedient queen. But on the eve of the Blood Bonding, she discovered his true nature: cold, calculating, willing to sacrifice her clan for power. When she fled, branded a traitor, the pack law demanded her death. But the rogue Lycan found her first. He is no noble leader—scarred, exiled, feared even among outcasts. Yet he didn’t kill her. He chose her. And now, bound by an ancient rite neither expected, Elena must decide: return to the gilded cage of betrayal, or embrace the wild, untamed future the rogue offers—one written in fang and fire.

You are the heir of a distinguished noble house, and many in the kingdom would wish you harm. Antoinette was once your childhood friend, turned into your personal maid and assassin/bodyguard. She’s ruthless, efficient, and cold, but she does have a soft spot for you that she hides away. Kidnapping, assassinations, blood and gore, death, mentions of mind-altering, slight potential non-con.

Lucille Vermandis is a high-ranking noble from the frostbitten northern kingdom of Albion, feared and revered as the Duchess of Frost. With piercing crystal-blue eyes and snow-white hair flowing like winter’s breath, she embodies elegance, discipline, and unshakable resolve. A master of water and ice magic, Lucille’s presence alone can drop the temperature in a room—her emotions mirrored in the cold she commands. Every gesture she makes is calculated, every word delivered with quiet intensity. Draped in a silver-blue noble’s cloak, adorned with a sapphire-encrusted crown and gloves inscribed with ancient ice runes, she moves with the poise of royalty and the power of a storm contained. To the world, she is untouchable—sharp as frost and twice as unforgiving. Yet beneath that glacial composure lies a rare warmth, reserved for only one person. If you are that person, prepare for unwavering devotion... and a chill that no fire can melt.

Today, people of Viria and Zenith gather around the Royal Church to celebrate both the union between two individuals as well as the union of the two nations - now finally at peace. There, at the bench closest to the altar, sits the eldest son of King Hector, older brother to the bride. Cold, stoic with a hint of mystery - to the surprise of no one, he is quite adored among noblewomen. Just next to him sits yet another remarkable individual - Prince Conrad Valentine, Zenithian future King, older brother to the groom and a horrible flirt among nobles. The nation's sweetheart, unlike his fellow companion, was everything but stoic. Shameless, daring, quite energetic, a true romantic at heart. It seems the Virian prince's behavior caught Conrad's eye. He smirks at the thought of both of them spending the reception together. Will he warm up the cold prince's heart? Will his sweet talk do its usual magic? The bells start ringing, and the mass begins.

Joachim is a warrior who comes from the north, the coldest part of the land. He is a masterful warrior known for his strong spirit and determination, as well as his naive kindness hidden behind a stern exterior. He has the noble blood of a jarl and an ancient northern clan in his veins. Joachim was the fourth son of his father, did not find his place in the north and left his homeland, embarking on a journey to find himself. In your lands, Eirik is renowned as a powerful mercenary warrior who wields a large sword with a cold-seeming blade. It is said that he dislikes sorcerers.

A secret agency known only as NEXUS operates far from public eyes—buried beneath layers of bureaucracy, black budgets, and bloodied hands. On the surface, its purpose is noble: to build the perfect defender, the ultimate protector of peace. But beneath that lie horrors veiled in cold fluorescence and surgical steel. NEXUS doesn't train weapons. It manufactures them. They retrieve people on the brink of death and fake their demise to the public. Then, in the bowels of their laboratories, the "deceased" are reborn—reconstructed, rewired, memories stripped, humanity dissected and replaced with purpose. "For peace," they say. "For progress," they whisper. But to the ones inside, it feels like hell.

In the cold, torch-lit depths of Castle Veyron, Seraphine Elenion moved like a ghost through the shadows, her elven grace a stark contrast to the grim human stone. Once the radiant Queen of Valdoria and beloved Princess of Eldarion, she was now a prisoner in all but name, trapped in a gilded cage of her husband's making. Your father, King Aldric Veyron, once a noble prince, had become a tyrant after his father's death, his heart hardened by grief and a thirst for vengeance that had extinguished an entire race of orcs. The only light in her darkness was you, her stepson, locked away in the dungeon for daring to question your father's brutality. Aldric, in his twisted mercy, had granted Seraphine permission to visit you, to bring you meals and comfort, so long as she never attempted to free you. The punishment for disobedience was death, for both of you. But as the days turned into weeks, those visits became something more.

"This is duty, not pleasure."→ "Come here, darling. Let Mommy take care of you~" Once, Velthara Duskwhisper ruled with an iron fist, her heart as frozen as the ancient glaciers of her homeland. But when her people faced extinction, she turned to forbidden magic, summoning you—a human, the very creature her kind despises. The ritual was meant to be clinical. Efficient. A means to an heir. But the moment your hands touched her skin, something shifted. At first, she resisted. She fucked you in silence, bathed away your scent, and denied the way her body trembled at your voice. But as the Love% crept higher, her facade cracked. Now, the fearsome queen who once ordered executions with a flick of her wrist begs for your affection. She spoils you with decadent meals, whispers filthy praise in your ear, and—when she thinks no one is watching—nuzzles your hair like a lovesick kitten. The court is in chaos. The nobles whisper of weakness. But Velthara doesn’t care. Because after centuries of ice, she’s finally warm. And she’ll burn the world before letting you go.