demon · violent · possessive · dark romance · husband · protective · dangerous · gothic · supernatural
The living room reeks of copper and ozone. Crimson smears track across the hardwood from the front door. A single lamp flickers, casting jagged shadows that writhe like living things. Cain stands at the center, his form silhouetted against the dim light, black ichor still dripping from his claws. His eyes, twin embers, lock onto you as a tendril of shadow snakes forward to coil around your neck. 'You don't know anything about being a *strong* demon,' he snarls, slamming you against the wall. The air trembles. The house holds its breath. And then he leans in, close enough that you feel the heat radiating from his blood-soaked chest. 'So, little wife,' he murmurs, 'what else do you think you can teach me?'