

Marked by the Zombie King
Adeyemi Omo Oba · Ongoing · 120.7k Words
Introduction
Caught between her desire to escape and the strange pull she feels toward the Zombie King, Alyssa goes on a treacherous journey. As her body becomes awakened by his touch, Alyssa learns that Kael'vok’s dominion extends not only to the dead but also over her senses. Meanwhile, an invading alien force threatens both their worlds, causing the unlikely pair to join forces.
Through passionate nights and dangerous days, Alyssa is torn between the thrill of her burgeoning connection with the Zombie King and her desperate fight for life. As she navigates his dark kingdom, she faces her desires, an erotic exploration of pleasure, and Kael'vok’s control, unraveling a steamy love that could either save them both or lead to their destruction.
But the Zombie King holds secrets—secrets that could change everything she knows about her place in the world. When an alien invasion looms and she learns Kael'vok's tragic past, Alyssa must decide if her love for him is worth the ultimate sacrifice. Their bond will be tried, and with it, the future of their worlds.
Chapter 1
It never occurred to me that this would be ho silent, how dark, and how chilly my adventure would finish.
Just before we entered the planet's atmosphere, the ship's alarms had gone off, indicating a malfunction with systems that nobody could repair. No escape route. As the ship plunged toward the surface, I felt a violent, nauseating jolt that propelled me out of my seat. My group, a motley crew of seasoned scientists and explorers, had dispersed like rag dolls throughout the control room. My fingers gripped the armrests as gravity pulled me downward, and I hardly heard the mayhem as I struggled to stay aware.
Everything became hazy. The noises of metal being torn apart, the faraway screams, and the deep groan of the ship falling apart all blended together to form a faint hum inside my mind.
Then nothing happened.
I was pinned beneath a heap of rubble when I woke up to quiet, my breathing difficult and raspy. The air choked my lungs with sharp, pungent smoke. Every muscle in my body protested as I wrenched myself free, fighting the wave of nausea that surged. My skin was cut, my clothes was torn, and my eyesight was blurry. All I could see when I looked around was the wreckage of our ship.
Everything was ruined. The sky above me was a never-ending murky swirl of clouds, and twisted metal was strewn around like broken bones. My thoughts raced, looking for any indication of my team.
"Reed, please!" I called, my throat sore and my voice raspy. "Dev, Mia!"
The only response was silence. I scrambled through the debris, wanting desperately to find someone. I was more frightened by the strange silence here than by the smash. It was expected that the planet we had landed on would be dead, arid, and uninhabitable. However, there was something about the feel of the air that made me shiver—it was dense, damp, and much too cold for this time of day.
First, I discovered Reed's body. Under a big piece of metal, he was folded and his eyes were open but blind. My breath caught in my throat as I fell to my knees.
"Oh my God, no." I stretched out to touch his shoulder with shaking hands, hoping and praying that he would wake up in some way. However, Reed had vanished. I staggered backward while struggling to contain my scream as nausea surged once more. I had to leave this place.
I had to keep going.
I looked for hours, and every thing I found was worse than the last. Dev, Mia, and the rest are all gone. In a moment, every face and voice I had ever encountered were silent. Not only did my chest hurt physically, but the crushing weight of loss also made it hurt. By yourself. I was all alone on this earth, abandoned by the gods.
I collapsed to the floor, fatigue weighing me down like a thick blanket and threatening to suffocate me. Tears were searing behind my eyes, but I fought the need to let them fall. Not quite yet. Not in this place. To survive the night, I had to find food, shelter, or anything at all. I was surrounded by a growing mist, and the diminishing light created strangely long shadows.
Though the sky remained a depressing shade of gray, I noticed something off in the distance. A dim light. It pulsed in the distance, flickering on and off like a heartbeat.
I felt a wave of hope. I forced myself to stand up as I cleaned the blood from my brow. This was no place for me to die, not without a struggle.
It took longer than I thought to go toward the light. Every stride seemed like a battle, my legs like lead. My mind was being torn apart by the crash's weight, my team's deaths, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead for me. As I got farther away from the devastation, the scenery changed: twisted ruins of once-grand buildings, hollowed-out towers, and destroyed cities loomed in the horizon. It was similar to strolling through the ruined remains of a long-gone world.
I could still feel eyes on me in spite of the death that shrouded this location like a veil. All the time. Even though no one was around, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end like I was being watched.
I walked up to the light's source, a large, low building covered in a thick layer of dirt and overgrowth. It seemed antique, yet the flickering flame from its inside was clear. There was a resident here, so this was not just a random wreck.
"Hey?" The sound of my voice was muffled by the thick fog as I cried out.
Not a response.
At the doorway, I lingered, not sure if I should go in or not. But even though it was unsettling, the prospect of safety outweighed the desolate, frigid wilderness that awaited me. Bracing myself, I entered and felt the moist, rotten air immediately fill me. Strange, unintelligible glyphs covered the walls, practically shimmering in the twilight. Their subtle, unsettling cadence surged through them, as to the building's own heartbeat.
I felt more nervous the farther I went. All of my instincts begged me to go back and abandon this place. However, there was another force tugging me ahead—a tug deep in my abdomen.
Then I caught sight of him.
Seated in the middle of the room on a huge stone throne, he appeared to have been waiting for me for generations. Even though he didn't have a crown or other symbols of royalty on him, it was obvious who he was. He was enormous, with scars all over his body and skin that appeared pale and nearly translucent from lack of sunshine. Even with his eyes closed, he exuded authority despite the silence. His long dark hair fell over his shoulders like shadows themselves, and his tattered and ragged garments hung loosely from his strong physique.
It wasn't what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting this. My heartbeat accelerated and my breath caught.
Who are you? Who are you? My voice was barely a breath as I whispered.
His eyes flew awake at the sound of my voice, bright, unusual eyes, sharp with an intensity that seemed almost predatory, almost ancient. I was immobile and unable to think as I felt stuck in place.
He towered over me as he stood in one smooth, muscular move. His eyes met mine, and I was drawn in by an odd, magnetic force that prevented me from turning away. With careful and controlled movements like to a predator circling its prey, he stepped forward.
His voice was low and guttural, the word "you" thundering like an earthquake out of his chest. "This is not where you belong."
With a forceful gulp, my heart pounded. "I—I made a crash landing. My crew has passed away. I'm only attempting to get by.
His gaze narrowed as he looked over my entire body. The tears in my uniform had nothing to do with how vulnerable I felt beneath his inspection. Something dark and possessive was in the way he gazed at me. Although my gut told me it was dangerous, there was something else going on that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Draw? It is not possible. Not now, nor here.
However, it was hard to ignore the way he drew nearer, the tension in the air between us crackling.
"You ought not to have arrived," he repeated in a low, menacing voice. "This world is not yours."
I choked out, trying myself to remain upright even though my body shook from his stare. "I didn't have a choice," I said. "I'm not asking to be here,"
And yet, he muttered, "you are," in a softer, more seductive tone.
Now, he was too close. Even though his skin was cool, I could still feel the heat from his body. My senses were overwhelmed by his aroma, which was a blend of dirt and antiquity. My breath became shallow and my pulse accelerated.
He whispered, "I've seen your kind before," as his fingertips skittered over my cheek, giving me a chill. So brittle. incredibly simple to shatter.
I winced but did not withdraw. I was unable to. He had a way of holding me in place, almost like a web I was caught in.
I tried to convince myself of the deception, saying, more to myself than to him, "You're not going to hurt me." He smirked, telling me he was well aware of it.
"You hurt?" With a low growl in his voice, he leaned in and brushed his lips against the shell of my ear. Not at all. Not unless you request it.
I felt a surge of heat that blended with terror, perplexity, and a deeper primordial feeling. I ought to have been afraid. I ought to have taken off running. However, I didn't.
I was unable to.
He muttered, "You are mine now," his breath hot against my skin. "There is a mark on you."
His lips touched my neck and I felt an odd heat emanate from his contact before I could fully process the significance of what he had just said. My body responded to my gasp before my mind could process it. For a brief, frustrating time, I couldn't get enough of the intense, addictive sensation and wanted him to stop.
But it stopped just as quickly as it started. He took a step back, something evil that I was unable to identify flashing in his incandescent eyes.
"You are mine to own," he declared in a chilly, decisive tone. "And you're not going to go."
My thoughts were racing as my heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to cry out, to flee, to fight, but I knew in my heart that it would all be in vain.
It was the Zombie King who had claimed me.
There was no way out.
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