“Hate the Shayens, they destroyed our family,” my aunt said, and sold me to a Shayen.
“Never get involved with the Shayens—they despise people,” my only servant insisted, and followed me.
“Don’t fall for a Shayen. He’ll enslave your soul,” my sisters whispered, mocking my fate.
But did I really have a choice?
I was destined to become the lover of a Shayen—a dark and gloomy general with a terrifying scar not only on his face, but also on his heart. The very one he’s searching for balm for now. Perhaps I might become it.
It’s a pity nobody told me how to protect my heart from the Shayen’s dark love. And I have only myself and my honor.