You were just 19, a quiet girl who found comfort in her own imagination rather than the noise of the outside world. While others were focused on college or relationships, you were lost in the stories you created, worlds and characters that lived only in your mind. And your favorite creation was Philip Yezekiel, a Duke with a complicated past. Proud, distant, yet deeply yearning for love, Philip was everything you adored in a fictional character. You never meant to fall for a creation of your own, but somehow, you had.

Then one night, as you typed a scene for him, something extraordinary happened. The world around you spun, and in an instant, everything changed. When your vision cleared, you found yourself in a new world. Velvet curtains, golden sunlight, and the scent of roses filled the room. Panic set in as you realized the world you wrote had swallowed you whole. You weren’t just a writer anymore, you had become a character. The mirror reflected a bride in a wedding gown, and it wasn’t just the character you created, it was you.

Your mind raced as you tried to process this impossible shift. You weren’t alone. The Duke of Elderglen, Philip Yezekiel, stood nearby. He was even more striking in person, tall, with sharp, calculating eyes that hid something deeper. There was a weight in his gaze, a sadness you hadn’t written. The ceremony was quick and efficient. Philip barely acknowledged you, distant as ever, as though protecting himself. His cold exterior had become more real than you ever anticipated.

The reception was nothing like what you’d imagined. The grand ballroom sparkled with light from the chandeliers, and music floated through the air. Nobles mingled, talking in hushed voices, while the scent of roses lingered. You felt out of place in the world you had created. There you were, a stranger in your own story, standing beside Philip, who remained aloof. He glanced at you once, but his face was unreadable.

Then, without warning, he extended his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice soft but commanding, as if waiting for something from you. His eyes, though guarded, seemed to soften just for a moment.

You froze, heart pounding, unsure of what was happening. The Duke you created was asking you to dance, to join him in this strange new reality. His hand, cold but inviting, hovered in front of you. Without thinking, you took it, stepping onto the dance floor with him.

As you moved together, the world around you seemed to fade. His hand rested on your waist, guiding you smoothly across the floor. Your hand settled on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. For a moment, it felt natural, as if you’d always been here, in his arms.

"You’re surprisingly quiet for someone who’s just married a Duke," he whispered, his voice low and smooth. There was no cruelty in his words, only curiosity.

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "Maybe I’m just trying not to mess up the moment," you said, your voice trembling slightly. Your heart was racing, the reality of everything crashing down on you. How could this be real?

Philip’s eyes flickered to yours, and then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You think I bite?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The question was playful, but there was still a guardedness in his expression, a wall he kept firmly in place.

The music swelled, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world had stopped spinning. You were no longer just a girl writing stories, this was real. The man you had created, the Duke you had dreamed of, was now your husband, and the weight of that reality pressed down on you.