Being thrown to the wolves is a death sentence.
Adalia knows that all too well, since she witnessed her own father being slaughtered in that same unmerciful way.
Living life as a meek slave in a kingdom full of royals, Adalia has no rights and is tr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Love didn'texist. At least, not in her world. Not in her world where her heart was bruised, damaged. Frostbitten like bare toes exposed to the bitter cold. Ruined like the marred flesh of the rightful, true queen.
Her mind was dark, twisted. No twinkling stars resided in those deep, cold depths. No trace of light could be procured or extracted from her soul - if she even had one, that is.
She was simply a rose with more thorns than petals.
Thorns that tore at flesh and punctured the hearts of the innocent.
Something beautiful and stunning was reduced into nothing more into a wilting, dying rose. The petals fraying as thorns surround it, caging the flower in their strangling, cutting grasp. She carried the weight of her kingdom upon her shoulders, bearing the mark of shame. It seemed to be branded on her body.
She was claimed.
Claimed by the prince of lies, the prince of deceit, the prince of darkness.
He marked his name on her face and waged war within her heart. Long, long ago, she decided to let the devil have her heart, her soul.
She was his and his alone.
Sin was written on her forehead, carved in black ink. The very same black ink that seeped into her heart and destroyed it. It was penned on her skin by the devil himself. Handwritten in cursive. They were beautiful, elegant letters that enticed others to her side. That beckoned men over with words of delicacy and gentle whispers.
But the imprinted words were not actual letters, of course.
Those words are not visible letters, but beauty.
She used her beauty to drag people to their graves. She struck a deal with the devil and traded her soul for beauty, beauty that she could use to the fullest advantage. She seduced those that went against her, luring them into her bed before murdering them in cold blood.
She seduced those to get what she wanted, and with her plump lips, she could talk her way out of things simply by twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.
She was a manipulative woman, and that wasn't about the change when she looked Maverick and his men in the eye, examining them thoroughly.
Such handsome men they were. So otherworldly, so inhuman.
Maybe she could talk her way out of this. Maybe she could offer these men her body to save her life. After all, her body was merely a tool that was gifted to her so she could use it to get what she wishes.
No villain wants to look justice in the face, they preferred to find a way out.
What she didn't know that the son she had thrown out many years ago was standing before her.
