ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER SHIT.
There was nothing remarkable about this morning. Nothing that separated it from the graveyard of mornings before it.
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15
Monster's Doll
QUEEN OF RAGE
RUTHLESS QUEENS–Book One She was born from war, raised on vengeance, and crowned in a land the gods forgot to bless. No heart pulsed in her chest; only rage was wired into her bones like a curse with no cure. He was born to power, raised to take what he wanted, and what he wanted was her. They knew each other once. Before the crowns, before the blood, before she learned that love is just another weapon used to disarm you. He never forgot her. He built a kingdom in her shadow and told himself it wasn’t enough. It felt dead, hollowed out, and mute as fuck because she wasn’t beside him. Now she was standing in the throne room with murder in her mouth and his father’s blood on her mind because the man in front of her, the one looking at her like she hung the moon, was the son of the man who destroyed everything she ever loved. He calls it an obsession. He’s not wrong. He’ll burn his bloodline to the ground before he lets her walk away again. She calls it justice. She’s not wrong either. She’ll burn his bloodline to the ground before she lets herself feel anything for him again. He wants a wedding. She wants a funeral–his family’s, one grave at a time. Two monarchs. Two monsters. One crown between them, soaked in a debt only blood can pay. This isn’t a love story. It’s a war with a wedding dress in it. Let the throne decide who survives it.
D. H. B. Rathod
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