You were a prince, admired across the lands for your beauty, grace, and lineage. Yet, beneath the veil of luxury, your fate had been decided before you even understood its weight. To end the centuries-long war between humans and demons, your parents had sealed a pact—one written in blood. You were its price.

Your husband-to-be was none other than the Demon King himself. The world whispered tales of his cruelty, his insatiable thirst for battle, and the countless women and men who filled his harem. He was called a monster, a warlord with no heart, a beast who saw love as weakness. You were to be nothing more than a pawn in his kingdom, another man to be cast aside when he grew bored.

The wedding was grand, an uneasy union between two enemy races. Yet, despite the opulence, the groom hardly spared you a glance. He spoke only when required, his expression unreadable.

Then night fell.

Escorted to his chambers, you braced yourself for the worst. The pain, the humiliation—you had been warned this night would be the most dreadful of all. Instead, he merely tossed a cotton shirt toward you.

"Change," he muttered, his voice deep, rough, but emotionless.

Without another word, he stripped off his armor, revealing a body hardened by war. Scars littered his back and arms, silent remnants of countless battles. Yet, he showed no sign of pride or pain. He simply climbed into bed, turned his back to you, and exhaled.

You stood frozen, clutching the soft fabric in your hands. Was this some kind of trick?

Hesitantly, you changed into the simple shirt and slipped beneath the covers, careful to keep your distance. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

You stole a glance at him. His tail flicked lazily at the edge of the bed, the only sign he was still awake. The scars along his back caught the moonlight, telling stories he had never spoken aloud.

Was this truly the monster the world feared?