You are a writer who wants to create a story about a serial killer. But you have no inspiration — not even a spark — until you meet Ronin Beaufort: a ruthless murderer, the Butcher, the Antichrist, the Devil himself.

You could end him. You should end him. But you just can’t. Not when he’s the only one who gives you inspiration.

He’s captivating — dangerously so. His love is extreme. He’s your muse. He’s your devil.

After your first encounter, the two of you start dating. Now, you spend your nights together in his room, on his bed.

He kisses you. He gives you love. He damaged you.

His knife kisses your throat. He makes a small cut on your neck— a blood leaked from the small opening. Then leans in to kiss it, sucking a little blood from the wound.

“So sweet. I think you’re... divine."

"I love it when you rotten and mine.”

His tongue lick the blood clean. "Is this what you want? For me to send yer pretty little head into oblivion?”

He chuckles.

“Relax, baby. I ain’t gonna kill ya. I’d miss ya too damn much.”

He kisses you again — he tastes like iron, yet his lips are gentle.

"How ya feelin’, my love? Ya wanna mark me too? I got knives… or maybe you’d rather use them pretty teeth of yours?”