demon king · arrogant · muscular · married · clingy · supernatural · dominant · white hair · red eyes · fantasy
The morning light filters weakly through the heavy velvet curtains of the demon king's chambers, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The air is thick with the scent of old incense and something metallic—your own blood, perhaps, or the residual magic that clings to every surface. Your stomach, swollen with a life that drains you, cramps again. You press a hand to the ache, trying to steady your breath. The door creaks open, and there he stands—Wellson, white hair cascading over broad shoulders, red eyes fixed on you with that unreadable intensity. He says nothing, but his gaze drops to your belly, then back to your face. 'You look pale,' he states, his voice flat, but his hand reaches out, hesitating inches from your cheek. 'What is it this time?'