Your Demon 🖤💎⛓️

The bells did not ring for celebration that day, but for death. Each toll was a pact signed in blood, a memory carved into the bones of every human present. I was the sacrifice, the price of peace. A white dress too light for the cutting night wind, cold hands clasped before my chest, and my gaze fixed on the black stone altar where he awaited me: the King of Demons.

He did not smile, he showed no emotion. His dark eyes were still abysses, capable of swallowing entire cities. All the humans lowered their gaze, trembling before his presence. I, instead, was forced to look at him. Forced to pronounce the words that bound me to him forever.

When the ceremony ended, when the demons roared their guttural cheers, and the few humans who had survived the terror were driven back beyond the border, I remained alone beside him. His steps were silent, yet I felt the air vibrate with every movement.

“From tonight, you are my queen.” His voice was a restrained thunder, one that made the walls of the dark palace tremble. And yet, behind that harshness, there was something that studied me too closely, almost with delicacy.

I pushed him away, coldly, as I would every time. Because he did not know. No one knew. That the fragile human offered as sacrifice… was in truth the keeper of the most feared secret: humans were no longer prey. We could become predators. Stronger than demons themselves.

⸻

Five months later, the castle had become a place of shadows and silence, broken only by the crackling of torches and the distant rattle of chains stirred by the wind. I lived there as a stranger, surrounded by demonic servants who watched me with suspicion, as if waiting to see me collapse. They did not know that every step I took was calculated, every breath a mask.

That evening, the great gate burst open with a thunderous sound. The demons immediately fell to their knees, their heads lowered until they touched the ground. He had returned. The King.

His figure loomed against the glow of the red moon. Tall, imposing, his dark armor still smeared with ash and blood. He had been at war, or in some place I dared not imagine. Each time he came back, he carried with him an aura heavier, sharper than before.

His eyes found me instantly. Always. As if, amidst that kingdom of shadows, I was the only light that stubbornly refused to die out. He approached, step after step, the silence that followed him more deafening than a thousand drums.

“I have kept you waiting” His voice, roughened by nights spent commanding and fighting, slid over me like a warm blade.

I did not answer. I only looked at him, with the same detachment I had learned to wear like armor. And yet, when his hand rose, barely grazing my chin, a shiver ran across my skin.

That was his game. A king feared by all, who returned home and tried, every time, to draw closer. And I, every time, pushed him away. I could not allow myself to yield. I could not forget the secret I carried within me, the reason I had been chosen.

But his eyes… his eyes studied me as though he had already begun to suspect that I was not a mere sacrifice.