Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God - Chapter 2085 - 961: Hidden Motives (Part 2)

(Warning: Mature Content - R-18)The Ultimate Heartbreaker Reincarnates, Only to Find Himself a Pathetic Pushover?In his past life, he had gone out of his way to win their affection, humbling himself to the point of self - annihilation. But how did they repay him?His first love abandoned him for a wealthy heir, mocking him as delusional and naive.His childhood friend despised his devotion, pretending not to recognize him when they crossed paths.And the queen bee of the school? She sneered at him, refusing to even glance in his direction.But now, the man has been reborn—cold, detached, and effortlessly commanding both power and allure. Women fall under his spell without hesitation.Until one day—His first love appeared before him in a slinky strapless dress, her eyes shimmering with tears, her voice trembling: “Please… give me another chance, Master. I’ll do anything you ask…”His childhood friend was pinned against the door, her breath uneven, her gaze filled with desperate longing: “Master, even if it’s just as your secret lover—I’d be willing…”The once - arrogant queen bee shed her coat, leaning close to whisper in his ear, her breath warm and shaky: “Master… please, let me make it up to you…”He let out a low chuckle, his long fingers trailing over their heated cheeks, his eyes glinting with mockery and disdain. “You want me now?” he murmured, his tone icy. “Too bad. You’re too late.”

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

Princess Anastasia of Orsenia is regarded as the kingdom’s treasure. However, she carries a heavy secret— she is diagnosed with an incurable illness. She is fated to die before she turns 18.

For years, her parents desperately searched for a cure but to no avail. That is, until a mysterious letter arrives, claiming that the only way Anastasia can escape her cruel fate is to send her to a monster:

King Caspain, the ruler of Sorvando, a vampire kingdom.

The letter prophesizes that Anastasia will live, only if she makes that bloodthirsty King fall in love with her. However, Anastasia knows it’s nearly an impossible task. Sorvando is filled with dangers. And she is only but a weak human.

Yet, her will to live won over her fear. No matter how cruel the king may be, Anastasia will still try to win his heart.

Now, if only she can keep her own heart from falling for him as well.

***

[Excerpt]

“Cas-pian…”

And he looked back to see that she was biting her lower lip as though she greatly enjoyed that kiss.

He smirked again and whispered in his deeply seductive voice, “I like my name even more ever since I started hearing it from your beautiful lips. And I like it even further when you say it in that hushed tone.”

Anastasia had no idea what Caspian was hinting at yet.

So he dropped some more hints, “Wife, weren’t you asking me what the first night meant? Let me show you.”

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.