Bound to the Ruthless King: Her Perfect Destruction

PROLOGUE

Once upon a time, he was a prince.

Once upon a time, he lived a life of luxury–surrounded by servants who tended to his every need, respected by all, feared by many.

Until the day the evil King of Badrith attacked his kingdom unexpectedly, killed his family, and took away his home.

Ten-year-old Prince Damon was taken hostage, tortured, and humiliated by King Judrith for two years before he escaped, faking his death.

Twenty years later, he returned-seeking vengeance and to reclaim all he had lost.

EXCERPT

Flaming arrows flew across the air. The clash of swords rang loudly. Screams and cries filled the atmosphere. Houses burned, bodies dropped lifelessly, and thick smoke blurred everything in sight.

Everywhere was chaos.

The palace was not spared. The enemy kingdom had successfully invaded it.

Damon ran out of his hiding place toward his father's nearly lifeless body.

He had witnessed King Judrith kill him.

"Father!" he cried, grabbing his hand.

Weakly, the king clasped his son's hand in his bloodied one. His eyes fluttered, clouded with tears.

"D–Damon..." he stuttered.

"Father, please, stand up. We have to save Mama and Eleanor. Stand up!" he cried, tugging at him.

"Y–You must... survive. You h–have to survive... no matter what," he forced out.

"Father, please don't die," the boy sobbed helplessly.

"Go. Go now. G–go far away... from here... and survive. Go," he ordered, pulling his hand away forcefully.

His eyes slowly shut. His breathing faded.

"Go, Damon... and survive."

His breath stilled.

"Father... please... stand up..." Damon cried, his voice breaking in agony.

The agony of losing everything-his home, his title, his family.

Footsteps approached.

Damon shot up and hid. When the soldiers passed, he ran.

He ran as fast as his young legs could carry him-into the darkness of the night.

The night that took everything from him.

---

CHAPTER ONE

TWENTY YEARS LATER

A light knock sounded at the door.

His gaze flickered toward it.

Another knock came-this time rough and urgent.

"Who is there?" he demanded, his voice stern.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

He stiffened.

No one entered.

The door remained ajar.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded, stepping closer.

"Reveal yourself this moment!"

Silence.

He moved to shut the door-

A hand shot out, gripping his neck.

He gasped as the force knocked him backward.

"Who are you?" he struggled out, clawing at the hand.

The man wore black. His face hidden.

An assassin.

"Who sent you?" he coughed, breathless.

"You evil man," the masked figure spat, releasing him.

Judrith dropped, coughing violently.

"Who are you?" he rasped.

A scoff.

"Someone who would love to see you dead."

"You dare! I am King Judrith of Badrith! I'll have you killed for treason!" he boomed, masking his fear.

A soft chuckle.

The assassin stepped closer.

Judrith stepped back instinctively.

"Like how you destroyed a whole family overnight?" the man said coldly.

"You are not human, Judrith."

"What do you mean? What do you know? Get out of here!" he shouted.

The assassin slowly unsheathed a dagger. Its blade gleamed in the dim light.

Judrith's stomach dropped.

"What do you want?" he stammered.

"Tell me-I will give you anything!"

The man said nothing.

He advanced.

The dagger raised.

Ready to strike.

"My king-" a voice called.

Judrith's eyes snapped to the door.

A guard.

Luke.

"What's going on-? Assassin!" Luke shouted, raising an alarm flute.

Without hesitation, the assassin leapt through the window and vanished.

"Are you alright, my king?" Luke rushed to him.

"Go after him. Now!" Judrith barked.

"Yes, my king!" Luke ran, sounding the alarm.

Judrith remained on the floor, shaken.

Who would dare attempt to kill him?

The thought unsettled him.

Who would dare?

_____

He ran into the dark forest, breath heavy.

He had escaped.

"Your Highness."

He didn't turn.

"Are you alright?"

He gave a curt nod, his expression cold.

"It's time, Cole," he said.

"We take back our home tomorrow."

His eyes burned with rage.

"Tomorrow... we seize Judrith."

He turned, walking deeper into the darkness, his presence heavy with darkness.

Cole nodded.

That was all he needed.

Tomorrow-

The beginning of the end.

-

The grand palace court was filled with an assembly of ministers and subjects, their faces etched with tension and panic. The air crackled with hushed discussions about the previous night's invasion.

King Judrith sat on his throne like a storm cloud of rage.

How dare someone attempt to take his life-within his own walls?

The bitter reality of the assassin's escape gnawed at him.

"I am so sorry, my king, but the man was incredibly skilled with the best swordsmanship I have ever witnessed," Luke explained, kneeling before the furious monarch, his head bowed low.

"He killed ten of my men, and you let him go, you rascal!" the king roared, slamming his hand against the table with a resounding thud.

Luke cowered, silently praying for his life.

"What were you doing? Almost fifty guards couldn't catch a single man! What a disgrace!" Judrith bellowed.

"Forgive me, my king, however-"

A sudden loud commotion and a crashing sound from outside cut him off.

"What is going on outside?" the king demanded, his voice booming with authority.

"Check it this instant, Luke," he ordered.

His gaze swept across the court.

"And where is Jade? He-"

The door burst open violently.

A wounded Luke staggered in, blood pouring from his body. He clutched his stomach, an arrow lodged deep within him.

His breath came in ragged gasps.

"Your Majesty..." he groaned, stumbling forward.

All eyes turned to him.

"We are under attack!" he shrieked, his knees buckling as he crashed to the floor.

The king stared, stunned.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"The-the palace is under attack," Luke forced out.

Gasps filled the hall.

"Attack? Who dares walk into their own death?" the king shot to his feet, disbelief blazing in his eyes.

Then the distant screams and clash of swords made sense.

Reality hit.

"Your Majesty, we are truly under attack!" one of the ministers cried, fear lacing his voice.

"We must act, my king," Lord Riverdale said, his tone steady despite the fear beneath it.

"Jade. Where is Jade?" the king barked, his gaze fixed on the writhing Luke.

"He... he-"

"And why is the king seeking my presence?"

A voice cut through the chaos.

A young man stepped into the courtroom-his hand gripping the princess's neck, a thin trail of blood marking where his fingers pressed into her skin.

In his other hand, he held a bloodied sword.

The king's gaze snapped to his daughter-and what he saw in her eyes was pure dread.

Rage exploded within him.

"And who are you?" he demanded.

"Jade," the man replied, his voice cold, savage. A mocking smirk curled his lips.

The room fell silent.

But this was not Jade.

The man bore none of Jade's scars, none of his roughness. Instead, he stood tall and striking, his neatly kept hair tied to the back.

Yet the resemblance-

It was unmistakable.

Judrith's breath hitched.

"You... you are alive," he stammered.

Prince Damon's smirk widened. His grip on the princess tightened, drawing a pained whimper from her.

"I've waited for this day, Judrith."

He shoved her forward roughly. She nearly fell.

"Finally... Judrith."

"You dare betray me!" the king roared.

Damon let out a cold snort.

"I came to take what is mine. And trust me, Judrith-no one here can stop me."

"You bastard! You dare walk into my territory and try to humiliate me?" Judrith spat, eyes bloodshot.

"You think you deserve to live? After what you've done? Slaughtering innocent people, stealing their home-...." Damon's voice dripped with fury.

"You deserve to die, Judrith. I am here to make you pay."

Judrith burst into a twisted laugh.

The court stared at him in disbelief.

His laughter cut sharply.

"You wish."

He descended from his throne, a sinister smile forming.

"I'll give you credit. You fooled me."

"You wormed your way into my trust. A groveling dog, yet seething with vengeance... impressive."

Damon's jaw clenched.

"You should have stayed hidden, Prince Damon."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

"Guards!" Judrith roared.

Soldiers flooded the court, swords drawn.

"Capture the traitor!"

No one moved.

"What are you doing?!" he bellowed

Damon smirked darkly..

With a simple flick of his hand, the soldiers moved but not toward him.

They seized the king.

Forced him to his knees.

Shock rippled through the court.

"Father!" Princess Sabrina screamed, struggling as a guard forced her down.

"You son of a snake!" Judrith spat.

"You do not rule here, Judrith," Damon said coldly.

"You think you can kill me and walk out alive?" the king snarled.

Damon stepped forward, gripping his throat.

"I could kill you right now... tear you apart piece by piece," he said softly.

His grip tightened.

"But death would be mercy."

His gaze shifted to the frightened princess.

"I prefer something worse."

Judrith struggled violently.

"Don't you dare!"

Damon ignored him, dragging the princess forward.

"You remember that night?" he said.

"You made me run... made me believe I had escaped. Then your men dragged me back."

His voice darkened.

"You threw me into a dungeon. Tortured me for two years."

His grip tightened.

"I was ten."

Silence.

"I begged for death... and you denied me even that."

His eyes burned with fury.

"You didn't want to kill me. You wanted to destroy me."

The court trembled.

"So now..." Damon said slowly,

"I return the game."

He leaned closer.

"Hide and seek."

Judrith knew how dire the situation was, but the only thing left of him was his pride, so he wore a dirty smirk on his face-

A façade to hide his fear.

"So? You're going to throw me into the dark dungeon as well, eh?" he taunted.

Damon shook his head.

"No, Judrith. That would be a waste of my plan. Your life is worth not a coin to me."

He took slow, predatory strides toward him.

"I'll take everything that matters to you, Judrith. Everything. You'll remain the king of Badrith but you will rule under my every command. Your reign has waned. Badrith will be nothing but a pawn for my revenge."

Judrith's nose flared with rage.

"You bastard! How dare you! I shall not live to be your puppet!" he spat.

Prince Damon yanked hard on the princess's hair. A scream tore from her throat.

"Let her go, you bastard!"

"From now on, the princess will be my property-my pawn. Mine to break. Mine to kill. She will go with me to Zandia, and you, Judrith, will do nothing except obey my orders. Your daughter, from this moment, is my hostage."

Judrith roared, thrashing against the guards.

"You monster! You will do no such thing to my daughter!"

"A monster you created," Damon snarled. "Now you will bear the consequences."

He slashed his sword across Judrith's shoulder, opening a deep wound.

"Aaah!" the king cried out in pain.

"Father!" Princess Sabrina screamed. "Let me go!"

Damon pulled her hair harder.

"You will stay still!"

"You bastard!" Judrith groaned, blood pouring from his wound.

"From today onward, Badrith will exist by my command," Damon declared, his voice ringing through the hall.

"This kingdom will run by my words. My rules."

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

"If any of you dare to defy me..." his gaze swept across the court,

"I will have you and your entire bloodline wiped from the face of this earth. Mark my words."

"From today... Badrith is under my rule."

"King Damon!"

Every soul in the hall dropped to their knees in submission-

To their new monarch.

A new beginning for both kingdoms.

---

-

Sabrina huddled on the cold, bare floor of her cell in Zandia.

Five days.

Five days of emptiness, of silence, of slowly losing herself.

She wanted to escape–·needed to escape–but there was nowhere to go. Her body ached, every inch of her sore and heavy.

Worse still, her heart clenched with so much hurt.

She had lost everything.

Her title.

Her home.

Her life.

Could she truly survive as nothing but a hostage?

Especially when she didn't know what life without being a princess is.

Fear coiled tightly in her chest as the sound of footsteps and rattling chains broke through her thoughts.

The door creaked open, and a guard stepped in.

"Stand up, Princess. The king requests your presence," he said mockingly.

Humiliated, she dragged herself to her feet, shooting him a glare.

He returned it without hesitation.

She scoffed.

Once upon a time, no guard would have dared look at her that way.

With a heavy heart, she straightened. Her disheveled hair framed her face, yet her poise remained.

She had been a princess for twenty-two years.

That could never be taken from her.

The guards led her through the palace.

Insults was hurled at her.

"Daughter of a monster!"

"She should be ashamed!"

"Look at her still being proud!"

"Dirty whore."

She kept her head high.

She would not give them the satisfaction.

"Get in," the guard snarled.

Sabrina stepped into the room, pausing only to throw him a sharp glare.

The room was dim.

Her pulse quickened as her gaze swept across the shadows.

Then she saw him.

King Damon.

Even without seeing his face clearly, she knew he was watching her.

Silence stretched between them.

Heavy and suffocating.

She pressed her lips together, trying to steady her nerves.

"You called for me," she said finally, her voice firm despite the tremor beneath it.

No response.

Her anger flared.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

A low groan echoed.

"You have quite the nerve for someone who is a hostage," his voice cut through the darkness, cold and sharp.

A chill ran down her spine.

She scoffed.

"I am no hostage. Not to you. Not to anyone. You do not own me."

Silence again.

A flicker of candlelight illuminated the room.

Now she could see him.

Cold.

Dangerous.

He rose.

Each step he took toward her was slow, deliberate and predatory.

Power radiated from him.

Her pulse raced, but she did not look away.

She would not break.

"It seems you still haven't grasped your situation, Princess," He sneered, the title dripping with disdain.

His hand settled on her shoulder.

She stiffened, his fingers trailing up to her throat.

Then tightened, knocking out her breath.

She gasped.

"You are not a princess here, Sabrina," he said, his grip tightening.

"You are in my kingdom. My territory."

She clawed at his hand, struggling for air.

"You speak when I allow it," He continued coldly.

"You breathe because I permit it. And if you defy me..." His eyes darkened,

"I will punish you."

His voice dropped lower.

"I own you now, Sabrina. My hostage. My property."

He leaned closer.

"And there is no escape."

He released her.

She staggered slightly, clutching her burning throat.

Her wound had reopened, blood seeping through.

Still, she held his gaze.

Defiant and filled with hate.

He hates her.

She can see and feel it.

And she hates him just the same.

He is a monster and a destroyer.

"If you wish to live longer than I intend," he said, eyes burning with loathe.

"Behave."

"Cole.", He called, his voice a levelled rumble.

The door opened immediately.

A man stepped in, bowing.

"Yes, my king."

"Take her back. She is not to leave her room unless I say so." He held her gaze as he spoke.

"Yes, my king."

"And inform Indiana I sent for her."

He turned away.

"Follow me," Cole said.

Sabrina obeyed.

The moment she stepped outside, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

King Damon...

He is dangerous.

He hadn't even begun to unleash the full extent of his rage.

But she had seen enough. His hate is so raw and deep.

He would destroy everything in his path to get his revenge on her.

And now, she had to survive him.

Survival.

She has no idea how to do that.