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Estella Obrien was never one to believe in the supernatural. To her, they were merely a folktale fantasy in which humans feasted, trying to make excuses for the pitiful life in the hope that a deity out there might hear their prayers and come to their heed.
But she knew better. There was no God coming to save them; she had learned that the hard way. After all, she was the universe’s favourite ball of misfortune, as it makes mockery of her, laughing at her misery.
Nothing seems to work out for her, not with her family or her job. If anything, she thought herself cursed.
It wasn’t enough that her mother had died in childbirth, all because of her decision to bring her into the world. Then her father, whom she thought would stand by her, decided to believe every word of the woman he had used to replace her mother.
A woman who hated the very sight of her from the very first day she met her, causing her far worse pain than she ever bargained for. Before successfully kicking her out of the house at the age of twelve.
Well, technically, she hadn’t been kicked out. More like given away, like she was some hand-down toy sent to live with her aunt. This was more than enough for Estella to know she was anything but welcomed.
There had been no god on sight to save her; no one had listened to her cries for help or come to ease the anguish in her heart.
No one came for her.
Until him!
The day they met was the day that the teardrop of the angels hit the floor, as the earth and heaven witnessed the tie of their fate.
They were polar opposites, from two separate worlds. They were never supposed to meet, yet destiny had a twisted way of bringing them close together.
The second their eyes met, they both felt the sparkle within, pulling their hearts into a string of something raw, something forbidden.
He was like a menacing cloud, the definition of beauty and perfection. A man full of mystery and secrets, turning her once chaotic life into something more enthralling and twisting her ideas of reality.
Pulling her into a world she most certainly wasn’t ready for.
♤♤♤♤
Dearilus Vasilios was a man not to be messed with. He was powerful, mighty, enraged, and infamous for his cruelty. A man whose name was enough to send a shiver down the spine of those who heard it.
He was a man whose presence sparked fear and distraught, whose gaze was enough to pierce through a man’s soul.
He was the nightmare told to scare little children. He wasn’t just called the shadow prince; he was Death himself. His skill, his intellect, his stamina, his endurance, his agility—his everything—holds murderous brutality.
He was formidable! He was THE monarch!
He was the god of destruction, a replica of havoc.
Until her.