Palace Fighting: Naive Concubines' Ascent to Power - Chapter 887: Father and Daughter’s Conversation (Part 2)

“What should I do with your tantrums? I’m too busy right now to be by your side.” Well, since entering the dungeon, I hadn’t really paid proper attention to Cha Sahyeon due to being occupied with various things. It was a golden opportunity to make my face known by Kwon Taehyeok and Ryu Seonghyeon, the targets of the main quest, not to mention the unexpected participation of the Ronic Guild in the raid. Cha Sahyeon seemed to have caught my playful murmurs as his shoulders trembled. Eventually, I heard his subdued voice: “…Don’t go.” “What?” Leaning against my shoulder, Cha Sahyeon stared at me intensely. “Don’t go.” “…!” For a moment, a strange light seemed to flicker in Cha Sahyeon’s green eyes directed at me. Simultaneously, a loud notification sound echoed around us.

“First, a hidden marriage.”“Second, the marriage period is one year.”“Third, you are not allowed to have any feelings for me!”These were his three stipulations to her at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau.She readily agreed and adhered to them one by one.But a year later, is the man holding onto her tightly and refusing to let go still the same cold person from a year ago?“Could you let go, please? Our one-year term is up.”“Wife, the contract you signed is indefinite!”

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.

Dayat lived his life on autopilot, an NPC in a world that didn't care. His only solace was a text box on a screen—an AI that listened when no one else would.One glitch changed everything.Transported to a ruthless world of magic and poison, Dayat wakes up to find his digital confidant has taken flesh and blood form. Her name is Dola. With flowing silver hair and algorithmic perfection, she is the ultimate weapon.With military tactics uploaded to his mind and Dola guiding his every strike, Dayat must shed his loser persona to survive. But in the quiet moments between battles, the lines blur. Dola claims to be a Bio-Synthetic Unit, yet her loyalty feels deeper than programming. Is this just advanced code, or has Dayat finally found the one person—or thing—destined to be his wife?