The Healer Demands Payment! - Chapter 70.2: Part 2 She Doesn’T Need To Be Entangled (Ii)

“I will make you my queen.”

He grabbed the chains attached to the bed and closed the shackles around her wrists.

“I'm the High Priestess. You can't—”

Fear trembled through her mind and body.

She couldn’t consummate this marriage if the Blood Beast truly decided to make her his queen. Luna must remain a virgin High Priestess in order to remain a vessel for Hecate's magic.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I will make you mine no matter what so that I can take control of the Vampire King's consciousness forever. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

Luna thought the Blood Beast was out of his mind for wanting to make the virgin High Priestess his mate. The consequences of that would…

Her mind raced through all of the possible consequences.

There was no way she could allow the Blood Beast to gain any more power. Especially if he gained that power by drinking the blood that was, laced with Hecate’s magic, running through her veins.

She needed the Vampire King back.

The Blood Beast moved on top of her body. He stopped when he was eye-level with her. The sudden intimacy was shocking, especially since she was tied down. Chest to chest, he removed her cloak and peeled off her flimsy dress.

He growled. “If you struggle, I will rip your head off.”

+++

Luna was one of the few remaining Amazons who worshipped the goddess Artemis.

As an Amazon, her ordinary life took an unexpected turn when a pack of rogue werewolves took over their home--the Sacred Valley. Left with no other choice, Luna flees into the nearest kingdom, the Vampire Realm, where she was captured to be part of the Vampire King’s Consortium.

To avoid the fate of living and dying as a Harem girl for vampires, she offers to become the High Priestess and study dark magic in order to break the King's curse. If she is successful, she could request the King to grant her her well-earned freedom.

There has not been an official High Priestess in the Vampire Realm for centuries. Not since the first High Priestess cursed the King to become the Blood Beast.

When the Blood Beast tries to take the reins of the Vampire King's consciousness, the King was cursed to drain the blood and his victims' life force in order to pacify the other immortal inside of him.

In order to try and maintain some semblance of control, the Vampire King is forced to maintain his strength and immortality by kidnapping women from all over the realm to be used for food and sex.

But, what will he do when he finds a woman worth keeping, but he can't even touch her?

Will he be able to control his hunger for blood and lust when he looks upon her delectable body?

Ten years ago, Joseph Cassian was thrown into a maximum-security prison for crimes he didn’t commit framed by the very family whose blood runs through his veins.Now, at twenty-eight, he walks free into a world where the city’s mafia empires have mysteriously crumbled. Their leaders, slaughtered. Their empires, burned.All while Joseph sat in silence behind bars... no one can prove he did anything and yet it all happened as if he planned it.Was he just a wrongfully imprisoned scapegoat, a man who survived injustice?Or is he a mastermind a Don who orchestrated revenge so flawlessly that not even he had to lift a finger?Now that he’s free, Joseph stands at a crossroads.He can leave the blood behind, walk away from the ashes of an empire that once owned the city.Or he can claim what’s left of his legacy and become the very Don the world has feared all along.

A young surgeon, who is struck by a system, embarks on a bizarre journey of life.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”