After her twin sister elopes with her lover to avoid her betrothal, Giselle has no choice but to marry the ruler of Montegnera and King of the Wolves, King Fabio Castille, as a substitute bride. 

There's one small problem though. 

It is hate at first sight and, by some cruel twist of fate, Fabio turns out to be her soulmate. Of course it doesn't help that the King is still in love with her sister and is determined to keep desperately searching for her. But try as he might, he can't ignore the tension and bond between them, a tension so raw it keeps pulling him to her room every night... 

Can Fabio put aside his past feelings and accept his soul mate in spite of the betrayal? Can Giselle sacrifice her hatred for Fabio to secure a good match and protect her family's name from shame? Or will she accept the King's rejection and lose her soulmate forever? 

It wouldn't be easy for the new royal couple but one thing remains certain: only by learning to love each other would they be able to survive the dangers that threaten the peace of the kingdom.


**


"Well, what are you waiting for? Get on the bed.."

Giselle flinched but something rooted her on the spot. 

His chest was already bare, smooth yet solid muscle. She found herself having a hard time looking at him and focused on his lips instead. 

"This isn't about you," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "This is for the court. For my bloodline. I'll be gentle with you, don't worry, but don't mistake my gentleness for anything more."

His lips brushed her collarbone. His hands were steady, his touch precise. A part of her wanted to push him away, but another part—the bond—ached at his nearness. Her skin prickled, her pulse surging.

He took two steps forward and Giselle mirrored him by moving back on instinct. When his strong, calloused fingers trailed down her thighs, she threw her head back with a quiet moan. He stopped suddenly and she bit back a whimper, trembling nervously. 

Fabio traced her skin, his touch feather-light yet it felt like fire lit up within her. He pulled her thighs apart and she trembled, a tinge of fear dousing her arousal. 

"Have you done this before?" He asked plainly. 

Their eyes met and she shook her head. Surprise danced across his eyes but his expressionless face hid it well. 

He proceeded to slip his fingers where it ached the most, drawing a sharp gasp from her. 

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Just relax," He said, not lovingly or anything but enough that Giselle's body seemed to follow his instructions, "Breathe and let go."

He pushed his fingers into her in one full stride and this time she couldn't contain her moans. That intense bubble of pleasure bloomed within her, pulling tighter and tighter the more he pumped inside her. To his credit, he seemed concentrated on the job at hand, the muscles on his forearm working faster. Then, still inside her, he curved his middle fingers, hitting a spot she didn't even know existed. Giselle came apart. 

"Oo-ooh, oh my-" her thighs shook and she almost sobbed at the feeling. 

Fabio withdrew his fingers and it took everything not to chase after it. He shrugged off his shirt and tie, unbuckling his belt with an urgency that made that telltale pressure well up in her lower regions again. 

With long, black hair falling over his face, it was no surprise that she found him handsome, because he was. The bond sparked, pulling Giselle toward him like a string and she was on her knees before she knew what she was doing, her hands in his. 

"W-what are you doing?" she hesitated and Fabio grabbed her by the wrists, hoisting her up to face him. "Don't fucking do that, I don't need anything from you. Just let me fuck you and leave."

He released her and she fell back on the bed, stunned silent. 


**


The ultimate enemies-to-lovers troupe with sizzling romance, dazzling royalty and fantasy. 

Fabio would do anything to push Giselle away and punish her for 'deceiving' her way to the throne but for how long?

Giselle decided that she sort of liked the brown-haired boy, especially after he managed to get Lord Karlsson to allow Lysara inside while maintaining that ridiculous grin on his face. It seemed Lysara and Oliver were very similar in so many ways from their identical brown hair to their equally mischievous smiles. And if she noticed his gaze lingering on her for more than too long, she didn't say anything. It didn't even stop when Lysara informed him that the 'fair lady' was the King's wife because it was painfully evident that he had no idea (whether out of ignorance or childish foolishness).


Chapter 68 - Oliver Karlsson