
Blood of the Obsidian Queen
Dehni Salem · Ongoing · 63.9k Words
Introduction
Julien, with his beauty and strength, owns the hearts of nearly every woman in Louisiana. Yet, how can she tell her father that her heart already belongs to another? Someone darker and possessive. Someone she's not supposed to care about at all. Someone forbidden.
She's set to marry Julien next spring, and all she can think about is her one passionate night with Luca. It started with gunshots and ended with long kisses and powerful arms protecting her from assassins.
Now she has to decide between her father's legacy and her heart's desire.
Walk this dark tale with Anya as she works her way through the passion-filled nights of Louisiana and finds her way to the future that awaits her. Watch as she fights through Assassins, Vampires, and Mafia Dens filled with murderers and betrayal to finally become... the Obsidian Queen.
Chapter 1
ANYA
In Anya’s dreams, her mother’s blood was never red.
It was black, thick and glistening as it crept across the floor of her bedroom, moving slowly toward Anya no matter how far she tried to run. Thirteen years had passed since that unforgettable morning, yet the dream always ended the same way. Her mother's body appeared in every room Anya stumbled into, and somewhere behind her, a pair of dark eyes chased her through the hallways.
Anya shivered, thinking of the familiar nightmare. She’d had the same recurring dream for the last eight years. She was twenty-one now, and she had spent the last several hours getting ready for a birthday party that felt less like a celebration and more like a coronation she wasn't ready for.
She could hear the music playing through the walls of the private suite. It thumped from the main floor of Obsidian below, vibrating the glass beneath her heels and making the vanity lights shimmer softly in front of her. She could almost see the people mingling and laughing under the black crystal chandeliers, sipping expensive liquor while pretending they hadn't come to measure how close Sam Volkov’s daughter was to taking his place.
Most are probably half-drunk. She thought sardonically.
Anya rolled her eyes before looking at herself in the vanity mirror. She was sitting in front of it, practicing the smile she would be expected to wear tonight. It was pretty and brightened her already elegant features, but it felt wrong on her face.
Her full lips wore a dark shade of red, and she’d touched her pale cream cheeks lightly with the luxury makeup her father had ordered from Paris, because apparently domestic brands were beneath the Jewel of the Volkov Empire.
Her strong jaw and dark curly hair showcased her father’s Russian blood, while the storm-grey of her eyes belonged to her mother. She wore her hair long tonight, and it feathered over her bare shoulders, which framed the delicate straps of her slim black satin dress. The material hugged her body before falling elegantly to the floor, the slit high enough to reveal one leg and the black holster strapped against her thigh.
She lifted her shoulders a couple of times, feeling sexy as she twisted sideways to peek at the daringly low back of her dress. A thick gold band hung around her neck, and a long string of pearls rested lightly between her breasts. Beneath both, hidden where no one could see it, the small gris-gris pouch rested against her skin.
When she met her own eyes in the mirror, she couldn’t help but drop the fake smile she wore. She refused to lie to herself.
Hard eyes stared back, and a heavy sigh filtered through her lungs as exhaustion seemed to sap the energy from her bones.
As if she’d said the maid’s name, Celestine walked up and placed a petite stemmed glass down on the edge of the vanity.
“The guests are arrivin’, chérie, an’ I tink you could use dis. I don’ tink yo papa would mind.” The maid’s rich Creole accent gave her words a slow, melodic drawl, but more than anything, it brought a genuinely rare smile to Anya’s face.
“Thank you, Celestine.” Her voice, which was unusually deep for a lady, dragged across her dry vocal cords like smoke. She couldn’t help but lightly clear her throat.
Reaching out, she grabbed the crystal flute and drank half its contents to ease the dryness.
There would be dancing and private tables surrounded by women looking to snag a man with money, blood, or both. Anya expected fights tonight, even if the Pakhan, her father, had forbidden any brawling in Obsidian. That was what he had called it too. Brawling. As if the men downstairs were boys scuffling over bruised pride instead of killers testing boundaries under black lights and gold ceilings.
“You lookin’ mighty fine tonight, chérie,” Celestine said with a warm smile. “Need anytin’ else, or you ready to shine at dat party?”
Anya’s gaze swung to the maid standing to her right. She heard the unspoken words urging her to get down to the party, but the woman’s face held no judgment. Only concern.
“You’re right. Of course.” Anya said, almost bitterly, before smiling up at Celestine. “I’ll finish my drink and make my way down. Let the Master of Ceremonies know I’m on my way, please.”
Anya’s heart sped the moment the words left her mouth. This was the moment she dreaded the most. All eyes would turn to her, and she would hold all the attention in the room.
All of that forced attention was almost too much, even though she could already handle herself well enough. Ever since her mother’s murder, training had become her life. Combat, weapons, ledgers, surveillance reports, bribed officers, shipment routes, and the quiet language powerful men used when they meant to threaten without dirtying their hands.
However, hundreds of people looking to her to bear the full brunt of their expectations and relentless scrutiny... was something entirely different.
Anya shivered, thinking about it, and downed the rest of the sweet drink in her glass.
Standing, she glanced once more at her attire before setting the glass on the vanity and making her way out of the suite.
The hallway outside was guarded on both ends by Volkov men in black suits, each with a small obsidian pin fixed near the lapel. They straightened the moment she stepped out, and she ignored how quickly their attention sharpened. Tonight, everyone would look at her like that. Not because she was beautiful. Not because it was her birthday. Because she was Sam Volkov’s only child, his Obshchak, and the future most of them either feared or doubted.
Anya stood for a moment outside the glass doors that led to the suspended stairwell overlooking Obsidian’s main floor. Her father had demanded that she use it and not sneak in through the private elevator where no one would notice her.
Through the glass, she could already see the haze of vape smoke and theatrical fog lifting from the crowd below. The smell of premium liquor, expensive cologne, and hot Creole food made its way to her, and she scoffed.
The Obsidian Volkov Bratva owned New Orleans’ underworld, controlling the flow of weapons, drugs, gambling, and blood money, all led by Anya’s father, Sam Volkov.
She peeked through the glass at the room below.
Black marble floors reflected gold light from the chandeliers above. Velvet curtains in deep burgundy framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, showing off the glittering city beyond the club and the dark stretch of river in the distance. Tables laden with top-shelf liquor and Creole delicacies gave the room a spicy aroma, while the casino level beyond the dance floor flashed with muted screens, private dealers, and men who pretended they had the money to spare.
Movement on the far balcony caught her attention, and she saw a flash of black.
Luca? Or did Father place extra enforcers? Her thoughts came, distracting her from the excitement below.
Luca was her one weakness. A dark storm that battered at her meticulously built walls.
Will he come?
She knew enforcers in dark suits would patrol discreetly all night, blending celebration with underworld power, but was Luca among them? Her father rarely wasted him on public displays anymore, not when Luca was better used in shadows and locked rooms where problems could be made to disappear. Still, some foolish part of her searched anyway.
“Anya Volkov,” the Master of Ceremonies announced, pulling her from her thoughts.
Anya straightened her spine and let the practiced smile return to her mouth. Then she breathed in slowly, forcing her body to remember what her father had spent years teaching her.
They could stare.
They could judge.
They could whisper.
But she would never give them the satisfaction of seeing her shake.
“Here we go,” she whispered, and the glass doors opened before her.
Last Chapters
#54 Chapter 56 Early Morning Bodies
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#53 Chapter 55 Same Old Nightmare
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#52 Chapter 54 Luca's Secrets Wrapped in Untold Memories
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#51 Chapter 53 The Future is Sealed
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#50 Chapter 52 Cold Corpses and Changed Forms
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#49 Chapter 51 Sweet Like Candy
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#48 Chapter 50 Shadows of Care
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#47 Chapter 49 Bullet in the Alley
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#46 Chapter 48 Speakeasies and Bullets
Last Updated: 6/8/2026#45 Chapter 47 Unexpected Brutality at the Noire
Last Updated: 6/8/2026
You Might Like 😍
The Rogue King II
Under the weight of his grief and pain, along with of the uncertainty of the new mate bond forged between Silas and Nate, Silas decides that he needs help. The weight of being Alpha that nearly just lost his pack if his little sister hadn’t been there, Silas decides to push everything away to be a better and stronger Alpha. Using magic is father gave him, Silas loses so much more than his way.
Nate, struggling with the mate bond, what the bond means for him, has continued to fight Silas, his Alpha, his best friend, and now his mate. When their fight goes too far, both Silas and Nate must deal with the consequences. It both pulls them together and tears them apart. Eventually leading to a full break in any relationship they had ever had.
On his own, Silas has to navigate through the next chapter alone. Coming to realize his actions, the consequences, and just how much it’s going to take to repair the damage he has done.
Nate, also on his own, works through what it means to step up in more ways than one. Somehow, even after her death, Aelia is still reaching out and helping Nate navigate the world on his own. He vows to grow and step up into the wolf that she knew he could be.
Book 2 in The Rogue Kings following immediately after The Rogue Kings I - Solaris' Reign. Trigger Warnings. Rated 18+.
Lightborn: The Demon’s Bond
Omega Bound
Thane Knight is the alpha of the Midnight Pack of the La Plata Mountain Range, the largest wolf shifter pack in the world. He is an alpha by day and hunts the shifter trafficking ring with his group of mercenaries by night. His hunt for vengeance leads to one raid that changes his life.
Tropes:
Touch her and die/Slow burn romance/Fated Mates/Found family twist/Close circle betrayal/Cinnamon roll for only her/Traumatized heroine/Rare wolf/Hidden powers/Knotting/Nesting/Heats/Luna/Attempted assassination
The Vampire Prince's Hybrid Bride
The Shattered Moon King
Lena is a survivor. For years, she has weathered the harsh, post-apocalyptic landscape by following one rule: trust no one. But when she finds an amnesiac man near death in the wilderness—a man with kind eyes and a strength that is anything but human—she makes a choice that will unravel her solitary existence.
She calls him Cain, but the shattered-moon tattoo on his back brands him as Kaelen, the long-dead Alpha of the powerful Sky-Fall pack. His return triggers a brutal civil war with the usurper who stole his throne and his fated mate. Hunted by Lycan assassins and a fanatical human commander desperate for the secrets locked in Lena's own past, their only hope lies in embracing the very power Kaelen can't remember and Lena has always feared.
As they uncover a conspiracy that threatens not just the pack, but the future of every living thing, Kaelen must fight for a kingdom he doesn't know and Lena must confront a legacy she tried to bury. In a world of broken thrones and fated bonds, they will discover that the greatest choice is not between love and duty, but between who you are told you must be, and who you choose to become.
Avery and the Cursed Alpha
Then a mysterious billionaire offers her a deal that sounds too good to be true.
Alexander Ravenswood is powerful, wealthy, and feared throughout Tenebrous City. Behind his perfect public image lies a deadly secret. He is the Alpha of the Nocturne Pack, cursed by an ancient bloodline that is slowly driving him toward madness and death. His only hope lies in finding the legendary Aethon Orb—or the prophesied mate destined to save him.
When Alex discovers that Avery can draw symbols connected to the long-lost artifact, he offers her a contract she cannot refuse: become his fake fiancée for six months in exchange for enough money to erase her debts and save her home.
What begins as a business arrangement quickly becomes something far more dangerous.
As they search for the missing Orb, Avery is drawn into a hidden world of werewolves, ancient prophecies, and deadly pack rivalries. Powerful enemies want Alex's throne. A jealous Alpha heiress wants Avery gone. And a ruthless rival Alpha will stop at nothing to claim the Orb for himself.
But the greatest secret of all may be Avery herself.
Because the closer she gets to Alex, the more impossible truths begin to surface about her past, her strange abilities, and the destiny that has been waiting for her all along.
With a curse threatening Alex's life, enemies closing in from every side, and a forbidden bond growing stronger by the day, Avery must decide whether to walk away from the dangerous Alpha who needs her—or risk everything for a love written by fate itself.
In a city where secrets kill and destiny cannot be escaped, can a fake engagement become a love powerful enough to change the future?
From Substitute To Queen
Heartbroken, Sable discovered Darrell having sex with his ex in their bed, while secretly transferring hundreds of thousands to support that woman.
Even worse was overhearing Darrell laugh to his friends: "She's useful—obedient, doesn't cause trouble, handles housework, and I can fuck her whenever I need relief. She's basically a live-in maid with benefits." He made crude thrusting gestures, sending his friends into laughter.
In despair, Sable left, reclaimed her true identity, and married her childhood neighbor—Lycan King Caelan, nine years her senior and her fated mate. Now Darrell desperately tries to win her back. How will her revenge unfold?
From substitute to queen—her revenge has just begun!
The Game of Claiming
A drunken bet becomes their private game: win the maid.
The rules?
Don’t let the others know you’re falling for her.
And never, ever let her leave.
But each brother plays differently—
The eldest buys her obedience.
The second steals her breath.
The third corners her in the dark.
The youngest ruins anyone who touches her.
Lila isn’t sure if she’s a player in their game… or the prize they’ll destroy each other to claim
Alpha VS Omega' Twin VS Twin (A Dark Werewolf Romance)
Stripped of everything, Callum is thrown into the Rookeries, where packless wolves go to die. But he survives. He builds a pack from the broken and the damned. He falls in love with Valentina, a dhampir hunted by the same vampire Parliament that destroyed his life.
In a city ruled by immortal aristocrats and controlled by ancient dragons, Callum learns the hardest truth: individual virtue cannot defeat systemic evil. But small victories matter. And some fights are worth losing everything
Vengeance of the Forsaken Luna
"Bella." Ethan's tone shifted, taking on that warning edge I knew too well. "Faye is vulnerable right now. She's terrified you'll resent her, that this will divide the pack. The last thing she wants is for this baby to come between us."
"Then you shouldn't have done it." I met his eyes squarely, letting him see the ice in mine. "Go back to your son."
"For fuck's sake." He dragged a hand through his hair. "How many times—it was artificial insemination. They used my sperm, yes, but Faye and I never—"
Bella let out a cold snort. Such brazen lies. Her mate had an affair with his brother's partner, and his entire family helped force her out with nothing, all to make way for the mistress to take her rightful position. Poor fool—he thought she was just an unwanted adopted daughter, easy to dismiss and control. He never knew the computer genius he'd been searching for was his own Luna.
Since he'd tainted himself, Bella was done. She rejected him and reclaimed what was hers, rising to the top with help from Victor, who'd been secretly in love with her for years.
When Ethan tried winning her back: "You don't want our child growing up fatherless."
Bella smiled mockingly. "The child's father isn't you."
Accardi
“I thought you said you were done chasing me?” Gen mocked.
“I am done chasing you.”
Before she could formulate a witty remark, Matteo threw her down. She landed hard on her back atop his dining room table. She tried to sit up when she noticed what he was doing. His hands were working on his belt. It came free of his pants with a violent yank. She collapsed back on her elbows, her mouth gaping open at the display. His face was a mask of sheer determination, his eyes were a dark gold swimming with heat and desire. His hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table. He glided his fingers up her thighs and hooked several around the inside of her panties. His knuckles brushed her dripping sex.
“You’re soaking wet, Genevieve. Tell me, was it me that made you this way or him?” his voice told her to be careful with her answer. His knuckles slid down through her folds and she threw her head back as she moaned. “Weakness?”
“You…” she breathed.
Genevieve loses a bet she can’t afford to pay. In a compromise, she agrees to convince any man her opponent chooses to go home with her that night. What she doesn’t realize when her sister’s friend points out the brooding man sitting alone at the bar, is that man won’t be okay with just one night with her. No, Matteo Accardi, Don of one of the largest gangs in New York City doesn’t do one night stands. Not with her anyway.
The Contract Wife: Marriage Of Malice
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
I didn't tell him to stop.
Instead, my fingers curled into his shirt, clutching the fabric as though it was my only anchor. Something in him snapped—something he had been holding back for too long. His mouth found mine in a kiss that wasn't tender, but hungry, desperate.
I gasped into him, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me as if afraid I might vanish.
"You drive me insane," he breathed against my mouth, his lips trailing to my throat. "I can't lose you, Ella. Not you."
My head fell back, a soft sound escaping me as his fingers memorized my waist. My anger melted beneath his desperation.
"James..." I whispered, more plea than protest.
His hand caught mine, fingers threading together tightly. "I'll bring him back. I swear it. Just... don't turn away from me. Please."
The word please—low, ragged, almost broken—undid me more than anything else could have.
Ella never imagined she would marry the man she had secretly loved for years in such a way.
When her brother Theo faced twenty-five years in prison for massive embezzlement, the ruthless business tycoon James Lancaster offered her a deal: marry him in exchange for her brother's freedom.
This wasn't a fairy tale proposal, but a carefully orchestrated revenge. Because in James's heart, Ella was the culprit who had killed his sister Cecilia. He wanted her to pay the price—to atone with a lifetime of suffering.












