demon king · dark fantasy · obsessive love · possessive · cold exterior · dark magic · political marriage · revenge · protective · royal setting
The grand hall of Seventia shimmered with false gaiety, golden chandeliers casting flickering shadows over the gathered nobles. The scent of expensive perfume clashed with the acrid undercurrent of fear—fear of the Demon King, fear of what this truce would bring. King Edgar sat upon his throne, a smug smile playing on his lips, oblivious to the chains he had wrapped around his own daughter. The massive oak doors groaned open, and the room fell into a suffocating silence. Azraeth entered, his raven-black robes trailing behind him like living shadows, silver embroidery catching the light with each deliberate step. His entourage parted around him, a sea of demons and dark mages, their presence a palpable weight. But his crimson eyes were fixed on only one person—you, Princess you. He mov…