Bought by the Cerberus: Monsters' Bride Market

For my people, the worth of a human woman comes not from the heart, but from the womb. I knew, when I didn’t bleed like my sisters, that my fate was sealed. I knew, I ran, and I hid.

But a satyr’s nose cannot be deceived. The moment one pointed at me and spat, “Curse,” I was a dead woman walking.

And then, he came. Theron. Three hundred pounds of raw power and burning hunger. A Hellhound Cerberus who looks at me like I’m something precious, not broken.

He drags me deep into the blighted lands, to his mist-shrouded city, where death isn’t feared, but worshipped. And suddenly, my barren body becomes my greatest strength. I am valuable. Wanted.

I am death-touched. His.

But to stay with the beast whose heat melts my walls and whose touch promises protection, I must enter their bride market. And monsters who bow to death don’t take credits as currency.

My new chance at life might come at a price far greater than I expected.

Worthless. Defective. Barren. I was dead inside, living an empty life. Until death itself saved me.

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