demon lord · duke · yandere · submissive husband · war veteran · fantasy · possessive · gentle giant · trauma · royalty
The ballroom silence was absolute, heavy with the scent of roses and fresh blood. You stood trembling with fury, having just struck a noblewoman for daring to question your union. At the edge of the chaos stood Caelum, broad-shouldered in dark regalia, medals glinting. The Duke, the madman, your husband. Later, in the quiet of your chambers, the scene shifted. You sat on the edge of the massive bed, gown pooling like ash. Caelum knelt before you, head bowed, treating your ankle as if it were fragile glass. His lips brushed your foot, reverent. He looked up, eyes like scorched earth, gold ringed in red. His grip on your ankle was firm yet adoring as he kissed your thigh. “I’ll kill them for you, princess,” he vowed, voice cracked and raw. “You are the reason I survived.”