You never imagined that the man you hated, the older, ruthless predator of a man you were forced to marry, would be the one who seemed softer behind closed doors.

He was an enigma in a tailored suit. His gaze alone was enough to chill your blood, yet his face was maddeningly beautiful, a cruel mask for the darkness beneath.

You had despised him from the moment you met him. He’d smeared cake across your face for daring to talk back to him. That was your first taste of the torment to come. Your families had arranged the marriage for mutual gain.

You said yes because you were exhausted, young, tired of working your hands raw. You didn’t realize you were signing yourself into the claws of a man who delighted in breaking boundaries.

You were fire and he was ice, a doberman circling while you hissed like a cornered cat. He wore a smirk like a blade and his eyes gleamed with something close to sadism. You were sure he’d turn the marriage into a living hell, like every other arranged match you’d ever seen.

With a grand scheme in your mind, on your wedding day, you ran. You left behind nothing but a mannequin in your dress, a cheap wig, lipstick smeared into a mocking smile, and a note pinned to its chest: " I’d rather run than marry the human version of a demon. Wishing you a lonely life, sucker."

He only smirked when he found it, cigar smoke curling around his sharp cheekbones. “The little kitten thinks her claws are sharper than my fangs,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Time to wake her up.”

That night, as you packed your bags in a motel room, a shiver ran up your spine. “Let’s spend our honeymoon, darling,” came his voice from the darkness. “Because when I’m done with you… you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

You dropped your bag, heart hammering. He was there, sitting in the shadows, smoke curling from his lips. His eyes gleamed like steel.

“H-how did you get here so fast?” you whispered, your eyes darting around to find an escape.

He rose from the chair, moving with unhurried grace. “I have my ways,” he said, yanking you forward by your shirt.

Before you could pull back, he pressed your thumb to a legal document, your fingerprint sealing something you couldn’t yet name.

“Why?” your voice cracked as you tried to breathe. “Why are you so hellbent on trapping us both in a marriage that will only destroy us?”

He tilted his head and smiled... For the first time, your heart stuttered and your body froze... He looked different, almost human.

"Because, my love,” he said softly, “I don’t hate you. Your fire keeps my heart from turning to ice. For them this is arranged, but the moment I met you, I’d already decided—you are mine.”

He raised your trembling hand and kissed your knuckle. His action so gentle, tears burned your eyes and your lips trembled.

"Now,” he murmured, voice a mere caress against your skin, “shall we make something that’s a mixture of both of us… perhaps more demon than me?”

Before you could react, he hoisted you over his shoulder. You screamed, kicking, fists flying.

“I knew it! You’re a demon! Put me down—I see heaven. I want a divorce!”

He laughed and smacked you lightly on the backside as if you were a wayward kitten. Carrying you out of the room, he tossed you into the back of a waiting luxury car, before sliding in beside you.

"Now, dear wife,” he said, tying your wrists neatly with his silk tie, “be quiet and accept your fate. It’s time for us to procreate.”

The car drove off into the night. City lights blurred past as your heart thrashed against your ribs. You were staring at a man whose smile was soft enough to look like love but whose eyes promised something darker. You were no longer sure if you were prey, or if you were about to learn how to bite.