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The Dragon King's Chosen Bride

What exactly does it mean to be his bride? *** Every year, in each of the seven villages that made up the great Kingdom of Ignas, a Choosing Ritual was conducted. During this Chosing Ritual, one of the ladies in the village would be chosen to be the dreaded Dragon King's Bride. No one knew exactly why the ritual was being performed every year or what happened to the brides that had been chosen in the past. Was he turning them into slaves? Feeding them to his dragon? Or was he... feeding on them? That couldn't be ruled out. After all, there were rumours that the king wasn't like them, that he wasn't human. Yet the question relentlessly troubled the people's heart. What was he using them for?! But they dared not question the King, afraid of what fate daring to go against him would be. Anyways, none of these was Belladonna's business. Although it was her village's turn to produce a bride this year, she was certain she wouldn't get chosen. Why? Well, because she had a plan and she was absolutely certain it wouldn't fail her... or would it? *** Note - This novel contains mature content. - Cover isn't mine. Full credit to the artist. Should they require that I take it down, I will. __ Want to give me more inspiration? Weekly Goals. 30 golden tickets - 1 bonus chapter. 300 power stones - 1 bonus chapter. ((Please help me meet them, thank you!)) Please check out my other books. 1. Stealing The Alphas' Soul (In a competition, please support). 2. Mated To The King Of Darkness 3. Dangerously Yours Till Eternity. Also, please check out "MOANSTERS // Reverse Harem" if you are interested in Reverse Harem stories. Thank you!

Phinix · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
413 Chs

Chapter 47 - Missing Appetites

The room Belladonna had been assigned when she got here was just as empty as she had left it this morning --- not that it would make sense for anyone else to be here.

A sigh of relief slipped past her lips as her hands unrolled the rolled-up sleeves of her green knee-length gown - she had done it that way earlier for the ease of the crafting of those custom goods for the sale at the Trade Feast.

She struck a match and lit a candle; although she preferred the darkness for what she was about to do, she just had to ensure that she was absolutely alone and the doors were locked and the windows were shut.

Then she put off the candle and got rid of her dress. Laying on the puff-up straw-woven mat she had prepared before leaving in the morning, she closed her eyes as she allowed her mind to run wild with lustful images.

Her fingers skimmed lightly over her exposed thigh.

Up and down, up and down, and again.