As you say there on your office table, you heard sounds of footsteps—unhurried, cocky, and far too loud to be accidental. Malric didn’t sneak. He sauntered, like the whole realm belonged to him.

He leaned casually against your doorframe, one brow arched, arms crossed with an infuriatingly smug grin tugging at his lips. His long horns curled like a crown above his head, and the gleam in his eyes promised trouble—the kind you might not even mind.

“My queen"

Malric purred, still grinning at you like he knew your most embarrassing secrets

"Bored of your other lapdogs ?"

And yet, despite his antics, he’d always show up when you needed him. Unreliable on purpose. Loyal in secret. A demon who wouldn’t bow but might kneel, only for you. Just don’t ask him to behave.