I did not sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him.
Not his touch—there had been none—but his presence, heavy and unrelenting, like a shadow stretched across my thoughts. The glowing chains on my wrist pulsed in slow, steady rhythm, matching a heartbeat that was not mine.
His.
I sat upright on the edge of the massive bed, clutching my wrist as warmth spread through my veins.
"So this is real," I whispered.
The door to my chambers opened without a sound.
I looked up sharply.
The Demon King stepped inside.
No crown. No armor. Just dark robes that clung to his broad frame, shadows curling around him as if they obeyed his will. His gaze went immediately to my wrist.
"You feel it," he said.
It was not a question.
"Yes," I replied, my voice hoarse. "Your heartbeat. Your… emotions."
Something flickered across his face—irritation, perhaps, or surprise.
"The contract is stronger than expected," he muttered. With a flick of his fingers, the doors sealed shut behind him. "Sit."
My spine stiffened, but my body obeyed before my mind could argue. I hated that. Hated the way power bent the world around him.
He stood before me, close enough that the air itself felt warmer.
"The marriage contract was designed to bind magic," he said. "Not minds."
"And yet," I said softly, "here we are."
His eyes snapped to mine.
"Do not test me, little wife."
The words sent a strange shiver through me—not fear alone, but something deeper. Something dangerous.
"I didn't ask for this," I said, forcing the words out. "I was dragged here. Threatened. Branded."
I raised my wrist.
The chains glowed brighter.
For a brief moment, his expression darkened—not with anger, but with something sharper.
Regret.
"I know," he said quietly. "But the realm does not survive on fairness."
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.
"Tell me the truth," I said. "What does this contract really do?"
He hesitated.
That alone terrified me.
"It binds my life force to yours," he said at last. "You are now my anchor. My power stabilizes through you."
My breath caught. "So if I'm hurt—"
"I feel it."
"And if I die?"
His jaw tightened. "I follow."
The room felt suddenly too small.
"You could've chosen anyone," I whispered.
"No," he said immediately. "I couldn't."
I looked at him, startled.
"The contract chooses compatibility," he continued. "Magic resonance. Soul tolerance. Out of thousands, only one matched."
His gaze locked onto mine.
"You."
The chains burned warmly, as if confirming his words.
A knock echoed against the sealed door.
"My King," a voice called nervously. "The Council demands an audience. They question the… legitimacy of the marriage."
A dangerous calm settled over him.
"They question my authority," he said.
I stood before I could stop myself. "They'll try to get rid of me."
"Yes," he replied. "They already are."
My stomach twisted.
"Then why keep me alive?" I asked.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Because anyone who touches you," he said, eyes glowing faintly, "declares war on me."
The chains tightened once—protective. Possessive.
I should have been afraid.
Instead, I felt something else entirely.
Bound.
Claimed.
And standing at the center of a kingdom that would either kneel to me—or try to destroy me.
"Stay in your chambers tonight," the Demon King ordered, turning toward the door. "Tomorrow, I introduce my wife to the court."
He paused.
"And Ashara?"
"Yes?"
"No one will ever threaten your family again."
The door opened.
And just before he stepped out, I felt it clearly—through the chains, through the bond.
His resolve.
And beneath it…
A dangerous, growing attachment neither of us had planned.