Beast Hack: Customizing Beasts and Capturing Beauties - Chapter 385: Custom Basic Unit

“Do you wish to know what will happen if I drink from your thighs?”Salviana drew in a sharp breath before she whispered, “I might die?”“No, It is I who will die if I don't,” he met her eyes with a lustful hungry gaze, “Spread your legs for me, Fiery-wife”And that she did...~~~{─────────────────~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}──Fiery is married to the demon everybody feared would destroy them someday. He is the greenest reddest flag but now she only sees white. A canvas to paint their love however she deemed righteous.~~~{─────────────────~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}──The Dark Prince, the third prince, is no stranger to the fear and hatred surrounding him. Cold, distant, and possessing a gaze as dark as midnight, he is known throughout the kingdom as the demon prince. But the truth hidden beneath his pale skin is far more dangerous—he is a vampire, living among a royal family that barely tolerates his existence.Salviana, a divine lady of myth, never asked to be married to such a man. Forced into the union, she is thrust into a life where every corner holds a secret and every glance feels like a challenge. Though her husband’s cold touch sends shivers down her spine, Salviana finds herself drawn into his world of shadows and intrigue, struggling to understand the depths of his darkness.With royal enemies watching their every move and Salviana’s own hidden powers slowly awakening, the bond between her and Alaric grows more complicated.Can she survive the dangerous world of court politics, where even her husband may not be fully trusted? Or will the weight of the secrets they keep tear them apart before they can discover the truth about each other?Caught between fear and desire, Salviana can’t help but wonder: Will she uncover the man behind the darkness, or will the shadows consume them both?Married to Darkness is a seductive, tension-filled journey into the unknown, where love and power clash in a dangerous dance that could lead to either salvation or destruction.

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

The Buddha said all beings are equal, so why then does he sit high on the peak of Mount Meru, issuing commands and directions?Tathagata, you owe me five hundred years!A Monkey King who could recall past and present lives, this time, could he leap out of Tathagata's palm?…[Guaranteed three updates every day, never to fall behind, or may I chop off my own hand.]

-Picture is not mine, I do not own the right for it, so if owner wants it to be put down, please message me on the comment-

In a usurped kingdom , amid a war-torn and blood-soaked Italy, Conradin's battleground is set. To reclaim his birthright the crown of Sicily, he must tread a path paved with blood, learning that he must do whatever it takes to ascend the throne.

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In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king.

In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable.

As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

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