I step closer, lowering my wings slightly, letting her see the slight tension in my body due to how serious this is. “But once you sign this, little flower, there is no going back.”
“Fine.”
She doesn’t hesitate, snatching the quill and contract out of the air with shaking hands, carrying it over to her coffee table. She signs her name, then uses her finger to take blood from her arm before smearing it across the page. The once unseen runes blaze to life, my sigil in the centre of the parchment, thrumming with power.
I step forward and pick up her knife, slicing my own palm open without hesitation. I squeeze my hand into a fist and let my blood fall across the contract, the action sealing it with a low, vibrating rumble that echoes into the cosmos. The contract smoulders for a second, then vanishes back to my realm, back to my office.
“When does the contract start?” She asks through a tired, broken voice as her ocean eyes meet mine.
“Now.” I grab her hand and teleport us instantly back to Hell.
She stumbles slightly,blinking at her surroundings. I watch her closely as she looks around, searching for any sign of regret, any hesitation—something to confirm this was all just a moment of madness. But it doesn’t come. Not even a trace.
“This isn’t the usual room you bring me to?” She mutters, her voice raspy.
I smirk, the twist of my mouth sharp and cruel. “These are the Queen’s chambers. Since you’re to be my wife, this is where you’ll stay.”
She nods, her gaze shifting to the towering bed draped in obsidian sheets and velvet throws. She steps toward it, fingers grazing the fabric with that careful, soft touch of hers that doesn’t belong in a place like this. Doesn’t belong in a place anywhere near me.
“I’ll have a healer come and clean up your arm,” I say stiffly, turning to leave. At the door, I pause, casting a final glance over my shoulder. She looks so small in here. So breakable. “Welcome home, Daisy.” I don’t wait for her response before I exit.
I stride downthrough the hallway, tension riding every step. My boots echo like gunshots against the stone, my wings twitching with a need to tear something apart. I should feel utterly victorious. I got what I wanted. I’ve found a way to shut the Divine Six the fuck up. I have my bride, the throne is safe. This should be a win. But it’s her. A mortal, a pathetic, broken mortal.
I rake my fingers through my hair, growling low. Gods, what has my life become? I took her at her lowest, claimed her in her ruin, and sealed it with blood. She’ll never be free of me now.And maybe I should care. Maybe the old me—who still gave half a shit about honour and pride—would’ve hesitated. But that version of me died a long, long time ago. I’ve been a selfish, ruthless bastard for most of my life, and this just truly confirms that for me. But I’d do it all again if I had to.
A few hourspass before I return to her chambers.
She’s curled on the edge of the massive bed, tracing the patterns in the obsidian headboard like they hold answers to all the questions I know she’s too stubborn to ask. She doesn’t look up when I enter, not until I speak.
“So, you’ve seen the castle,” I say, voice low, “but you haven’t seen Zeriavoss.”
She blinks, then mutters as she continues tracing the patterns. “Aran showed me already.”
I shake my head, even though she’s not looking at me. “No. Aran showed you the castle and its gardens and pointed out things from the safety of my castle. Zeriavoss stretches far beyond these walls. Come, let me show you.”
I don’t wait for her answer as I stroll forward and offer her my hand. She hesitates for a heartbeat before slipping her small fingers into mine. I don’t warn her as I teleport us to the outer path just beyond the castle cliffs. We arrive with the wind in our hair, the waterfalls falling from my home at our backs, the sky flickering with the flashes of red lightning. The cobbled path beneath our feet winds towards the heart of the valley, lined with wildflowers and fields upon fields of crops. The village sprawls ahead, rooftops of polished obsidian, smoke curling from the forge, and faint laughter echoing through the streets.
We walk, entering the village where demons pass us. Some with bark-like skin, some with translucent wings, all of them in varying shades of every colour known. Some look nearly human, others not at all. Every single one lingers their sight on Daisy, each with varying expressions across their faces—confusion, curiosity, disgust. She stiffens at first, then relaxes when we keep walking, painting the cool, calm expression across her face I’ve come to know quite well as her mask.
We pass the schoolhouse, and the sounds of giggling children ring through the air as they run about carefree. One small demon, his horns nothing more than little spikes protruding from his head, crashes right into my leg.
He stumbles back, falling to the floor, his eyes wide. “I… I’m so sorry, Your Highness.”
I’m about to growl my annoyance when Daisy crouches down beside him, her voice soft and warm. “There you go,” she says, brushing dust from his tunic as she helps him up. “Are you okay?”
He nods, staring at her with wide, inhuman eyes. “Who are you? You look different.”
She falters, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she looks up at me. “This is Daisy,” I say simply. “She is going to be your queen.”
The child’s mouth drops, then, without hesitation, he bows low, almost tipping forward. “Thank you for helping me up, Your Highness.”
“Please,” she chuckles. “Call me Daisy.”
The child giggles and glances at me nervously. I lift a brow, angling my head towards the school. “Go on now, back to your teacher.”
He scampers off, chanting about how he was helped by a “beautiful queen.”
“You have children here?” She asks as we continue walking.
