The Heartthrob Became My Boyfriend - Chapter 73 - 0 Reflection

Empires rise and fall on the Yulan Continent. Saints, immortal beings of unimaginable power, battle using spells and swords, leaving swathes of destruction in their wake. Magical beasts rule the mountains, where the brave – or the foolish – go to test their strength. Even the mighty can fall, feasted on by those stronger. The strong live like royalty; the weak strive to survive another day.

This is the world which Linley is born into. Raised in the small town of Wushan, Linley is a scion of the Baruch clan, the clan of the once-legendary Dragonblood Warriors. Their fame once shook the world, but the clan is now so decrepit that even the heirlooms of the clan have been sold off. Tasked with reclaiming the lost glory of his clan, Linley will go through countless trials and tribulations, making powerful friends but also deadly enemies.

Come witness a new legend in the making. The legend of Linley Baruch!

It’s the vacation of a lifetime, a trip to a remote island filled with geniuses and murder.

Damon’s lips twisted into something between a smirk and a sneer. “Sisters or not, I kept them alive so you could watch me rip off their heads one by one. That’s the only reason they’re still breathing.”My jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t.”He leaned closer, his voice lower. “Wouldn’t I?”“You kept them alive?” I repeated his words slowly, my voice cracking with disbelief. “Just so I can watch you kill them?”Damon stood tall, his eyes twirled with something sinister, his expression was like a carved stone. “Yes,” he said flatly. “You cared enough to protect them. Now you’ll watch as I end them.”My chest tightened. The air grew too thick to breathe. “You’re cruel.”“I’m Alpha,” he replied, his tone cold, without a shred of mercy. “Mercy gets people killed.”‘Psychotic bastard. I wish I could drive a knife into your chest right now!’~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~When Ember opened her eyes, she was no longer the powerful, independent woman she once was.Instead, she woke up in the fragile, abused body of a lowly Omega—destined to be nothing but a breeder for the Alphas.Her escape attempt didn’t get her far. Instead, it led her straight into the path of Damon Blackthorn—the ruthless Lycan King feared by all.Sold like a slave by her own father, Ember becomes the property of a man with a frozen heart and a violent temper. But beneath her submissive mask lies something more: a cunning mind and a will that refuses to break.Now, in a world ruled by dominance, power, and ancient bloodlines, Ember must do more than just survive.She must outsmart a king.She must earn the loyalty of the very people who scorn her.And maybe—just maybe—she’ll bring the Alpha to his knees.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.