Chapter 1: The Ghost Monarch's Bride

He kissed her like punishment, held her like a claim, and left her trembling in a silence older than time.

Heat.

That was the first thing she felt.

Not fear. Not panic.

Just unbearable, consuming heat.

Ezra’s body stirred beneath heavy sheets, skin bare and flushed, the ache in her thighs raw and real. A hand gripped her waist. Hips moved against hers, slow and steady. Breath fanned her neck. His body was everywhere — heavy, burning, constant.

Her eyes opened slowly.

The ceiling was unfamiliar. The bed, too soft. The weight above her — terrifyingly real.

She didn’t know this man.

Didn’t remember agreeing.

But her body remembered something. A rhythm. A pulse. A raw ache where pleasure and pain blurred.

Her heart fluttered wildly. Her arms lay still. Her voice remained trapped in her throat.

And in her heart, a quiet pout formed — not a cry, not a scream.

> So cold… he won’t even look at me.

The moment passed like smoke.

And he stilled.

His body paused mid-movement.

Ezra’s breath caught. She didn’t understand why. She hadn’t spoken. She hadn’t moved.

But something in him stopped — as if he’d noticed her, really noticed her, for the first time.

Then, without a word, his head dipped.

And he kissed her.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t kind.

It was deep. Unforgiving. Ruthless.

His mouth crushed hers like punishment, slow and merciless. His tongue claimed her lips with quiet precision, drawing a helpless gasp from deep in her throat.

Her fists clenched the sheets. Her body arched without consent. Her mind fractured under the heat, the shame, the confusion. And when he pulled away, her breath was gone.

He didn’t speak.

But he moved.

He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her tightly against his chest. Skin against skin. Her cheek pressed over his heartbeat. One hand tangled in her hair. The other rested across her stomach like a silent brand.

Ezra lay frozen, limbs trembling, breath uneven.

He didn’t ask.

He didn’t look.

He just... held her.

And then — he slept.

Like nothing had happened.

Like everything had.

She blinked into the darkness.

The silence pressed down on her, thick as velvet. The warmth of his body threatened to lull her into a numb haze. But her mind wouldn’t rest. Couldn’t.

Because something was wrong.

Something wasn’t right.

This body. This bed. This pain. This man.

And then — it hit her.

Like a wave crashing backward through time.

> This isn’t a stranger’s life.

> This is my past life.

> But twisted. Changed.

> A parallel world… one I never escaped.

Memories flooded in — not like visions, but like feelings: blurred pain, fire, sorrow. The scent of blood and betrayal. Familiar hallways. Familiar cold. Her skin prickled. Her soul remembered.

Ezra stared at the ceiling with wide, glassy eyes, her breath shaking beneath the weight of his arm.

He had no idea who she was now.

But she did.

And she knew this world was not fiction.

It was punishment.

It was fate.

And somehow… she had come back.

🖤 To be continued...

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